Rebound
by LadyGrey05
Summary: The six of them had been friends for years: Neal and Emma, Killian and Milah, David and Mary Margaret. One evening out divulges a secret love affair between Neal and Milah, throwing the others into a tailspin. Can Emma and Killian make a real go of a relationship, or is it just a rebound?
1. Chapter 1

**I made a few tweaks to the story, mostly proofreading. If you like what you're reading, let me know!**

* * *

It was late, almost midnight, when I walked into the Jolly Roger pub. It had been five years since my last visit. It had been five years since I'd set foot in Boston at all, much less the place that had ruined my life. I took a quick look around before wandering over to the intricately carved mahogany bar. The mahogany was worn from years of glassware slamming on its surface. It was still beautiful, but it looked old, a little worn out. The brass foot rail wasn't really brass anymore, the shiny coating scratched by hundreds of shoes. I ran my hand across the once smooth filigree along the front before sliding up into one of the newer barstools. The bartender walked over.

"Welcome to the Jolly Roger. What'll it be?" he asked, barely glancing at my face as he slammed clean glasses on top of one another, straightening up from the busy night.

It was loud, the place almost full. The stage was occupied by a live band, all normal for a Saturday night. I didn't recognize anyone, which was good. I was in some melancholic stupor and stopped by out of morbid curiosity. And for the whiskey.

"Jolly Roger, up, please?" I said to the distracted bartender. He glanced up at me with furrowed brows.

"Jolly Roger? Expensive stuff, no one ever drinks it," he tilted his head back and gave me a look.

I stared back at him. No one? Fine, I'll play. "That's me," I said, smiling at him in what I hoped was disarming and sexy. "No one. Make it a double." I looked away from him, turning to check out the crowd. The bar area was dark, the light from the stage the main illumination. I could see faces, but mine was hidden. I heard a thud behind me as my drink hit the bar.

"That'll be…" my hundred dollar bill silencing him as I smacked it down beside the glass of amber liquid.

"I'll take the bottle," I said. He placed it on the bar beside my glass and nodded before turning away.

I picked up the glass and turned back to the crowd. Sliding down off the barstool I walked slowly through the swaying mass of drunken humanity. Somehow I ended up in the back corner at an abandoned high top. I pushed one of the chairs up against the wall and sat sipping my drink. I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes, remembering another time, another life.

* * *

It was just another night after work, and we were all hanging out at the Jolly Roger. David and Mary Margaret were dancing. My fiancé, Neal, and I were playing darts with Killian and Milah. Milah was in a snit about some work thing, and Neal was trying to cajole her out of it by picking on her throwing stance.

"Come on, Mi, you're throwing like a damn girl tonight," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

She whipped around and glared at him. "I am a girl, asshole." She flipped her long hair over her shoulder and turned back to throw, landing on the top right corner of the large space on the five.

"No twenties for you, little girl. Come on, seriously, how many triple twenties have you hit just this week? A five? I know you can do better than that." Killian glared at him. I punched him in the side.

"Leave her alone, Neal," I said. "We're winning. Her bad day will make for us a lovely night." I reached up to peck him on the cheek. Killian rolled his eyes and walked over to the bar for a refill.

Neal walked up behind Milah, taking her throwing hand in his, placing a hand low on her hip in a way that could only be described as "possessive," and guided her through throwing a dart. She hit a double twenty.

He looked down at her and winked. "See, babe, you can do it." I couldn't actually hear the words, but I could read lips. Glancing up, I saw the look in his eyes. _Smoldering,_ was the word that came to mind. He pushed back from her and landed back against the table I was leaning on. I could see a flush rising up her throat onto her cheeks. I looked back for Killian to see if he'd watched their little scene. He was just leaning against the bar, drink in hand, jaw ticking. I looked back at Neal's face and watched him watch Milah. I glanced down at the ring on my finger. _What the hell?_

It was my turn to throw. I stepped up to the line, my hands and knees shaking. I took aim and threw. I hit the nine, nowhere near where I was aiming. I looked down at the floor, at all the nicks and scuffs from misthrown darts marring the dark wood. I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breath. I looked back at Neal for encouragement, but he was busy chatting up Milah. I looked for Killian, to see if he was watching, but he was nowhere to be seen. I took a deep breath and toed the line again, lifting my arm to throw. Someone stepped up behind me.

"Did you know?" Killian whispered against my ear. His English accent thick with hurt. I shook my head slightly, my own throat too choked to speak.

"Hmmm, well, four can play at this game, right, love?" he said, his voice was tempered steel. I glanced up at his face; his normally tranquil, blue eyes were lit with something fearful. His hand snaked along my waist to rest on my hip. I couldn't move.

"Killian, what are you doing?" I said, keeping my voice as low as I could, trying to catch my breath. I could feel his anger in his grip.

He smirked at me, moving his lips against my hair. "Next round, we're changing teams." His words were whispered as if to a lover. He nudged my ear softly with his nose, staring into my eyes. He winked at me and squeezed my hip, abruptly pulling away. I glanced over my shoulder, following him with my eyes and saw Neal watching. The look on his face was thunderous. I guess four _could_ play this game.


	2. Chapter 2

Neal and Emma won the game. Milah pouted at Neal, while I wandered back to the bar for another drink. Emma followed behind. Neither of us were in the mood to continue the evening. David and Mary Margaret walked over while we waited for our drinks.

"Hey, guys, we're going to head out," David said, cashing out with the bartender. "We'll catch you guys tomorrow."

"'Night, guys," I said, slugging David in the shoulder.

Mary Margaret gave us a strange look. "Emma, are you ok?" she asked, catching the wetness in Emma's eyes. Always perceptive, that lass.

"Fine," Emma said, tossing back her drink and ordering another. I looked up into the mirror above the bar and could see Neal and Milah trying to be sneaky, watching our backs and flirting. He tucked her hair behind her ear, and she tilted her face into his palm, a lover's caress. I looked at Emma in the mirror. She was watching, too, the hurt in her jade green eyes turning them almost onyx.

"Ok, well, we'll see you later," Mary Margaret said, knowing things weren't fine but deciding it was best to leave well enough alone. She would eventually pester the truth of the situation from Emma.

I finally caught Emma's eyes in the mirror. She and Neal had just gotten engaged though Milah and I had been together longer. We had met in New York while I was playing in a band. The band had gotten a couple of gigs in the Boston area and decided to change venues. There was more money and cheaper real estate here. The band had split up a year or two later, but Milah and I had stayed in Boston. We all started hanging out somewhere in between.

Her eyes were dark, her breathing barely controlled. I reached over, putting my hand on top of hers. "Swan, love, what are you thinking?"

She looked back up to them and then down at her drink. She picked it up and splashed it that same "fuck them" way she had moments before. She slammed her tumbler on the bar and turned to me, eyes flashing. In that brief moment between watching our lovers behind us and turning to me, her face completely morphed. The pain and sadness were exchanged for anger and vengeance. She smiled at me like she would smile at Neal before he'd drag her out back for a make out session. Her eyes were molten, half lidded as they skimmed my body. I tugged at my ear as her eyes traveled back to my face.

"Well, _love_ , what do _you_ think I'm thinking?" she asked, mocking me.

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "Are you sure you want to play this game, darling?" We both glanced up into the mirror and saw our lovers entirely too involved in one another, now ignoring us completely. I gave her the same heated inspection she had just given me. Returning to her face, I saw something unexpected in her eyes.

* * *

Fear and something unnamed pooled in my belly. I had always wondered what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of that gaze. Neal and I were, or so I thought, good together, but…Killian radiated something dangerous and exciting. My thoughts were interrupted by a hand brushing up my side, a thumb grazing gently under my breast. The fear ebbed and the unnamed dipped lower in my body.

"Killian," I said, my breath caught in my throat. I was frozen as he leaned over, lips again at my ear.

"Give it ten seconds, and meet me out back."

"What? No!" I panicked. I had expected some harmless flirting here inside. If he wanted to go outside, he was jumping a few levels ahead. I wasn't sure I wanted to play this mad, revenge game. He glanced over to Neal and Milah, who were getting more hands on and less worried about being caught.

He grabbed my waist and hauled me against him. "You know you want to," he was almost touching my lips with his. "You've wanted to for a while. I can see it in those beautiful green eyes of yours." My heart was thumping in my chest. Was it fear or something else more dangerous? I looked at Neal and Milah as he pulled away to leave.

I turned back to the bar as he left, picking up my latest beverage. I watched Killian walk out the back as Neal and Milah glanced over at me. Seeing me occupied and Killian gone, they grew more boisterous in their flirting. They went back to the dart board, ignoring me completely. I snuck out the back. As I stepped into the alley, Killian grabbed me and shoved me up against the wall, his hips pinning me.

"Killian, we can't do this," I said, trying to fight off his hands. They were everywhere. He pulled back enough to slide his hands down my waist and grab my ass, hauling me against him.

"Aye, love, we _can_ do this," he growled into my neck. One hand had my ass and kept my hips ground into his, the other fished under my shirt, scalding my ribs as he sought my breast. He thumbed my nipple through the lacy cup of my bra while his tongue traced my heartbeat down my throat. I could feel his arousal through my jeans. Whatever was going on in his head, I needed to stop him.

"Killian, wait, stop," I grabbed his face in my hands and forced him to look at me, but what I saw in his eyes nearly crushed me. Pain, hurt, desperation, and fear, all swirling around in those sapphire depths. I imagine they mirrored my own, but this was no solution. I pulled him down so that our foreheads were touching, running my fingers along the back of his neck to soothe. His breathing was ragged; I could feel every muscle in his body tensed, ready to spring. He sunk to my shoulder, his arms wrapping around my waist. He took a deep breath and pulled back to look at me.

"Emma, I… I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Please, Killian," I said as I pushed him back a bit. "I'm as much to blame as you, but you're angry..." He glared at me. I was having a bit of trouble breathing with him that close. That would require some thought when sobriety kicked in.

"And you're not?" he hissed. Suddenly he was up against me again, mouth crushing down on mine, forcing my lips open, tongue plumbing my depths. He was enraged and intent on causing harm. My hands flew to his head, trying to pull him back, fingers woven through his hair, pulling fruitlessly. His hand slid back up my body, my fear was once again overwhelmed by that maddening unknown.


	3. Chapter 3

I knew this was horrible, evil even. I had Emma, beautiful Emma, crushed against the wall. I felt her fighting me, tugging my hair, trying to stop me from ravaging her mouth. In the space of a breath, her hands changed from pushing to pulling, her tongue began dancing with mine. Her body, previously crushed against the wall, bowed into me. I wrapped my arms around her, crushing her into flesh instead of brick.

I had wondered more than once what it would be like to kiss her, to run my fingers through her long, blonde tresses. I reached up, that soft silk winding through my fingers, gripping the back of her head to hold her against my mouth. She moaned deep in her throat, giving herself to me completely. I stopped the kiss instantly, grabbed her shoulders and held her an arm's length away. Both of us were heaving, trying to catch our breath.

We were standing about two feet apart when Neal and Milah came bursting through the back door, arms wrapped around each other, lips locked. It took a minute for them to realize they weren't alone. They abruptly pulled apart, their own breathing as heavy as ours had been only moments before.

Neal wiped his mouth. Milah looked at her shoes. "Oh, um, hey," Neal said, and then he giggled. "Whoops. I guess that cat's busted."

I watched him stand there, smiling a little at Emma, like he was some misbehaved child. She walked up to him, her eyes tight with anger. "Bastard." she said, her tone flat with pain, disappointment, and bitterness. She hauled back and hit him square in the face.

"Neal!" Milah cried out, jumping to her lover's defense as blood poured from his nose. Emma stumbled backwards as Milah shoved her out of the way.

"Enjoying your evening, love?" I asked as my girlfriend tried to stem Neal's blood with her scarf. She whipped around to glare, mouth open and ready to tear into me, but she decided to keep quiet. "What? Nothing at all to say? Bloody whore. I should have left you in New York."

Her eyes flashed up again. "Yes, you probably should have. I would've been happier there than here with you. I wanted to be with a musician, not some pretty-boy barfly."

I lurched forward ready to strike her. Emma stopped me, grabbing my arm and tugging, trying to hold me back. I broke away, grabbing Milah by both shoulders and roughly pulling her to face me. I could feel my jaw ticking furiously as I stared into her pale green eyes. I watched as her rebellion ebbed away into cold fear. As I looked at her face, I realized it was inevitable for us to end horribly. Even when I was still playing, she seemed to revel more in the limelight than in me. I shoved her backwards into Neal.

Neal. He had asked Emma to marry him and then treated her this way. She had always been sweet and innocent and kind. I took a step back, not knowing what I would do if I didn't get away from them. Emma grabbed my arm again.

"Killian…" she said, her eyes begging me to walk away.

"You can have her, if you want her, buddy," Neal said softly. "I'm all done."

I felt my fists clench at my sides at his crass words. I looked over at Emma. Her face was the portrait of hurt and shame. How easily he could discard the woman he had pledged to marry. The tears welled up in her eyes. I pried her clinging fingers from my arm, glancing away to glare at Neal. I stalked towards him and slammed him roughly against the brick wall. "You lousy son of a bitch," I snarled at him. His sickening smile faded from his face. His eyes rounded in fear. I wanted to hurt him. I shoved off the wall and walked away.

* * *

I looked down at my hand, the ring Neal had given me not three weeks prior shining in the light of the full moon. I slid it off my finger and held it out to Neal. He didn't move a muscle. I refused to look at him, instead keeping my hand held out, waiting for him to take his ring, the promise he made for our future. He refused to take the cursed object from my hand. I dropped it on the ground and walked after Killian.

When I reached the parking lot, I found him planted face first against his car, his foot angrily toeing the gravel at his feet. "Killian," I said softly, not knowing whether man or beast would answer. I reached out to touch him. He shoved back from the car and put his fist through the window, glass flying everywhere.


	4. Chapter 4

"God! Killian, what the hell?" I said, voice at least an octave higher than normal. I reached forward to grab his hand. It was slashed open and bleeding. "You idiot. Now we have to go to the ER and get you stitched up."

"Alright, Swan," he said, his voice dull, his hand dripping blood. The moment of rage passed, defeat taking its place. I took his keys and opened the door, looking for something in his car to wrap around his hand. I found a t-shirt in the backseat and tied him up. He started to get into the driver's seat.

"Killian, you can't drive. We're both trashed, and you're basically one handed. I'm going to call a cab." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed the local cab company. While I talked to the dispatcher, I dragged Killian through the alley to the street in front of the bar. Once we reached the street, he slumped against the front of the building. I sighed and joined him.

"Are you ok?" he asked in an almost whisper.

"Yeah, fine, just peachy," I said.

"No, I meant your hand," he answered, pulling my hand up to inspect the bruises and blood.

"Yeah, it's fine. It's bruised, but the blood is Neal's." He smiled at that.

"Bloody bastard," he sighed.

"Goddamn bitch," I answered.

He put his head back against the cool brick of the wall and brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I guess it's a good thing you hadn't set a date for the wedding." He looked over at me, something like pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry, love." He reached up to stroke my cheek.

His gentle touch was too much and my throat caught on a sob. The tears I had avoided for the last hour welled up in my eyes. I put my face in my hands and tried to keep from turning into some puddle on the ground. Killian wrapped his left arm around my shoulder and pulled me close, gently pressing his lips to the top of my head. We stayed like that until the cab showed up to take us to the hospital.

* * *

I made it through the ER with only fifteens stitches. We caught another cab back to the Jolly Roger to pick up my car. Emma drove me home, her hand being less damaged than mine. We said little on the short drive from the bar to my apartment. We sat in the car for a few moments, before I spoke.

"Take my car and go home, get some sleep," I told her, taking her bandaged hand and holding it up to my face. "I'll come 'round in the morning to pick it up. I don't have any plans for tomorrow, so it's no trouble."

She sat staring out into the dark parking lot, another tear escaped down her cheek. She looked down at her hand in her lap. "Can I stay with you tonight?" she whispered. "I don't want to be alone, and Mary Margaret will interrogate me the minute she wakes up."

She wanted to hide. I couldn't blame her. I had a feeling David would be calling me later with questions not dissimilar to those Mary Margaret had planned for Emma. "I imagine she and David had quite a rousing conversation musing over us, love." I leaned my head back on the seat, keeping her hand against my chest. "You're more than welcome to hide out here."

She glanced up at me, tears falling from her chin onto her lap. "Thanks, Killian."

We got out of the car and walked up to my apartment. Opening the door, I guided her into the foyer. I left the lights off, the moonlight pouring through the window plenty to guide us to my room. She stood just inside the door of my bedroom, picking at her fingers while I pulled a t-shirt and boxers from my dresser. As I handed them to her, I said, "I'll take the couch, love. Make yourself at home."

When I started to leave, she stopped me with a hand to my shoulder. Without looking up, she whispered, "Stay with me?"

I nodded briefly. "I'll be right back." I left the room, giving her a chance to change. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge. Returning to the bedroom, I found her sitting on the nightstand, clothed in my t-shirt and boxers. "Here, drink," I said, handing her a bottle of water. On autopilot at this point, she opened the bottle and drank, draining it. She sat the empty plastic container on the floor. I pulled the bedding back and pulled her to her feet, pushing her back on the bed. She offered no resistance, behaving like an obedient child. I laid her down and pulled the covers over her limp body.

I walked around to the other side, shedding my shirt and reaching for the buckle on my belt. Kicking off my shoes and my jeans, I crawled into the other side of the bed in only my boxers. As I laid down I could feel the bed shaking beneath me from the strength of her sobs. I scooted closer and wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her into my chest. I nuzzled the back of her neck with my nose, kissing her hair, shushing her with what had to be lame words of comfort. After a while, her sobs fell away to sniffles and hiccups, and she finally fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

In my dream, he was curled around me, still asleep, his arm wrapped possessively around my waist. I arched my back against the warm body pressed against me. Under the covers, I ran my hand along his arm until I found warm fingers, interlacing mine between. The fingers clenched, grasping as the body behind me slowly came awake. I felt warm breath, lips against the tiny hairs at the nape of my neck. The arm pulled me closer, and I felt the heat of the man's arousal against my backside. I felt a tongue on my neck followed by gentle lips at my hairline. I curled my head forward giving him better access.

The hand at my stomach pressed lower, digging through the waistband of the shorts I wore. I stretched my leg out behind me, opening myself for his touch. My leg was quickly captured by his, pulled back over his thigh, opening me to his touch. As he wrapped himself more completely around me, our hands intertwined as he delved between my legs. I was starting to burn, feeling the heat and moisture building at my core.

"God, love, you are so warm," a voice murmured against my hair, an unexpected voice. My dream shattered, and I was awake, stiffening. What the hell was I doing in bed with Killian? He must've been dreaming, too, as his sleep fogged mind missed my body's response to his voice, and his hand slipped beneath my lace panties. As his fingers found their prey, I stopped breathing altogether. Even half asleep, Killian's mind was focused and able, fingers nimbly stroking me. I tried to pull my leg back to stop this madness, but he was too fast, wrapping his leg around mine, pinning it to the bed. I was trapped.

I exhaled forcefully as two of his expert fingers slid inside me. My body started to melt. I moaned, sliding the hand I had been resting on to grab his hair, pressing him to my neck. "Killian," I breathed. "God, Killian." I rolled back against him, giving him better access.

"Yes, love, that's it," he said at my neck. "Open yourself for me." My abandoned hand wormed its way between our bodies until I reached the hardness that was pressed against my back. I rubbed the length of him through the boxers he still wore.

* * *

I was having the most amazing dream about Emma being in my bed, her blonde hair rambling across my face and pillow. She had just reached down to stroke my cock, and I couldn't stop the groan that escaped my throat. The sound was loud and brought me out of my hazy dream to find that it wasn't quite a dream. I tensed in shock, suddenly remembering that Emma _was_ in my bed, and I had my hand between her legs.

I stopped abruptly, but her hand had quite a grip on my cock. Her breath was coming in little puffs as she wantonly rubbed against me in the still dark room. "Killian," she begged. I dragged my hand from between her legs and reached between us quickly to still hers.

"Emma…" My voice was tight, ragged. She pressed against me, trying to urge me back into the mindless bliss. "Emma." I could hear the pain in my voice, knowing this was going to break us both if we didn't stop _right now._ I pulled her hand from between our bodies and placed it on top of the covers, wrapping my arm around her. I released her leg from between mine, and she tried to turn, to twist into me. "Love, darling, shhhh."

"No, Killian, don't stop, please?" She rubbed her body against mine, her heat thrusting against my cock. My body, goddamn traitorous body, thrust forward, grinding against her. She wiggled her hand free and somehow managed to get herself naked from the waist down. She pulled away just far enough to dig through the opening in my boxers to release my cock from its cage.

"Emma, love, you don't want to do this." I grabbed at her hand, but she had quite a grip. She stroked me, eliciting a feral snarl from my lips. "God, Emma, please, I don't want you like this." I was barely under control. If she didn't stop, I'd take her right then and there.


	6. Chapter 6

Realizing she had the upper hand she twisted around in the bed, facing me. "How _do_ you want me, Killian?" Her voice was full of gravel, lust dripping from her tongue. She pressed her mouth to my neck, nipping at the pulsing vein that was threatening to starve my brain of sanity-giving oxygen. My eyes rolled back in my head as my hand ceased trying to stop her and started guiding.

"I know you want me." Her tongue licked along my collarbone to behind my ear. I groaned against her hair. "You know you want me." She sucked my earlobe into her mouth, biting down.

I stopped her hand; she struggled, grumbling at me. I reached down and divested myself of the cumbersome clothing. "Sit up," I commanded her, glaring down at her pouting face. She sat up, and I yanked my t-shirt off her to see flushed skin, nipples hardened with desire. I pushed the bed clothes off the end of the bed, reveling in the site of Emma naked and flushed from head to toe. Her eyes widened, jade irises darkening under my gaze. I pushed her back on the bed, pulling myself up and leveling myself between her legs.

I reached down to caress her thigh and heard her breath catch in her throat. She arched her back towards me, offering her beautiful breasts to my mouth. I sucked a nipple into my mouth, biting down on the stiffened nub. My hand trailed to the inside of her thigh as I worked her over with my tongue. My hand grazed the already swollen flesh between her legs, and she bucked beneath me. Her hands grasped for my cock, again stroking me, pulling me towards the crazy edge. I ripped my mouth from her breast and moved to crush her lips beneath mine. Her hands dragged up my chest, nails biting into flesh, until she had my head clasped between them in a vice grip.

I rutted my cock against her clit, feeling her body move under me. With one hand, I hauled her up against my cock, battering her with desperate thrusts as our tongues danced together. I slowed down abruptly, wanting to last more than the few moments I knew I had left. I pulled from her mouth, both of us gasping for air. I trailed kisses down her chin, her neck, once again claiming her breast with my tongue.

She reached for my cock again, I grabbed her hands and held them to her chest, trapping her, as I moved to kiss between her legs. I licked the length of her, taking in the scent of her heat, tasting the sweetness of her arousal. She was so wet so fast. I kept her hands prisoner against her chest with one hand while I adjusted her for my onslaught. I placed one of her legs over my shoulder, holding the other, open wide, against the bed. Her lips spread between her thighs in this more accessible position. I let her hands go and looked up into her face.

* * *

His eyes were pitch black as they stared up at me from between my legs. He had almost stopped this; I had almost let him, but I needed it. I needed to feel something not terrible for just a moment before I let Neal's betrayal sink back into my mind. I wanted mindless sex. Milah had often talked of his prowess in the bedroom. I had often been jealous given that Neal was rarely what one would call "passionate."

He had released my hands, and I reached down to stroke the stubble along his jaw. He leered at me, like some hungry jungle cat. Keeping his eyes on mine, his tongue snaked out to lick the length of my clit. I could feel my eyes widen. He licked again, watching me. He moved just a tiny bit, and suddenly, his fingers were back, deep inside me. My eyes rolled back in my head and my hips thrust into his mouth. I felt him chuckle against my heat as he let loose and ravaged my clit with his tongue, his fingers stroking and curling within my sheath, teasing that sensitive spot just within. I balled the sheet beneath me between my hands, writhing under his mouth.

* * *

I could tell she was close, her walls clenching my fingers as I stroked, easily finding that bundle of nerves that had her twitching on the bed. Her eyes were closed, her head wrenched back on the pillow. I couldn't take my eyes off her as I fucked her with my mouth and fingers. Suddenly, she was crashing into me, grabbing my hair, thrusting into my mouth. She rode my fingers hard as she came, screaming my name. When the shaking slowed, I pressed a warm kiss against her inner thigh, and slid up to face her.

Her eyes were black, pupils engorged, swallowing the jade irises. I reached my tongue out to tease her lips. She captured my tongue, sucking it into her mouth at the same moment her hand again claimed my cock. I groaned as I crushed her mouth to mine. With an economy of motion, I pulled myself from her hand and plunged forward, my own hand guiding my weeping cock into her white hot heat. I pulled her legs around my waist. She tilted her hips up to meet me, and I sank full bore, thrusting as deep as I could.

I felt her body clench around my cock, squeezing me. "So tight, love." My voice was broken, shuddering. I knew it would not take long before my own orgasm would end us. I pulled out slowly, feeling her twitch and writhe around me. I started slowly, foraging deeper with each thrust. I could feel her passion building again as she clawed at my back. I moved back to her face, kissing her eyes, her forehead, before once again claiming her mouth. I felt her walls shudder as she reached the precipice again. I captured her cry in my mouth as I picked up the pace.

* * *

Every thrust of his hips brought with it another wave of pleasure. He had to be nearing his limit. His breathing was short, desperate. "Come for me again," he whispered against my lips. "You are so beautiful when you come." I took his hand and guided it to the joint between us, urging him to stroke me as he did before. His eyes twitched and a devilish grin spread across his face as he began stroking me hard. I gasped, unable to breathe, as the tide sweeping me away brought with it a rush felt from head to toe. As the wave crushed me completely, his name ripped from my lips in an echoing scream.

* * *

"Killian!" I felt her scream all the way at her core. Her body clenched around my cock, shocking me in its violence. My body exploded deep inside her. I shoved into her hard, losing all control as she milked me. I dove into her again, slowing, trying to bring us down easy, knowing it was pointless. Finally, spent, I collapsed beside her, dragging her limp and wasted body against me. She shivered beneath my tender kisses. I grabbed the comforter discarded on the floor and wrapped it around our bodies.


	7. Chapter 7

I woke before Killian, feeling sore and achy from our late night sojourn into bodily bliss. He was sprawled out on the bed behind me. I had one of his arms pinned under my body as I laid nestled up against his side, my head on his shoulder. I opened my eyes to the sun glaring through the blinds, belying my mood of confusion and hurt. It should be cloudy and gross, like I felt on the inside. I turned my eyes to the man beside me. He looked so peaceful in sleep, the pain, and the passion, of last night erased from his face.

The covers had ended up at his waist, so I had quite a lovely view of his expanse of chest, dark hairs swirling, trailing down his chest to his flat stomach, disappearing under the sheet. I could feel my body start to heat up again as I thought about what was under that sheet. It was tented slightly. It always amazed me how guys always woke up with erections, ready to go. Neal was always ready to pounce on me first thing in the morning. His pouncings, however vigorous and passionate they may have seemed at the time, couldn't hold a match to that dreamy interlude of a few hours before. I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of Killian. He always smelled like salt, musk, and rum. Neal usually smelled like stale beer and sweat.

I must've moved somehow, because Killian's dark eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. The arm that wasn't pinned underneath me reached up to allow his fingers to thread through his messy hair. He sniffled a little as his hand ran down his face, rubbing his eyes. Suddenly, those eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling. I felt his arm under me twitch.

"Good morning," I said. I sounded like a frog, and cleared my throat. "Let's try that again," I said, my voice clearer. "Good morning."

He turned his head towards me, eyes staring. He looked quite shocked. "Hi," he said. Definitely not a good sign. I rolled away from him to climb out of the bed, and he didn't stop me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw he was staring up at the ceiling again. "Anything interesting up there?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

He closed his eyes, flinging his arm across his face. "Not particularly."

"Wow, you've now said three whole words to me, if 'hi' counts as a whole word." I started putting my clothes on.

He finally looked at me, eyes pinning me still. "Emma," he started. I knew the moment he looked at me that he was going to go into that whole I'm-sorry-we-never-should-have bullshit, and I had to stop him before he had me sobbing again over something so ludicrous. It wasn't like he seduced me, more like the other way around.

"Stop," I said. "We aren't going there. It happened. It's over. Everything is fucked up, and we're just going to have to deal." I continued dressing, pulling my boots on. I got up and left him lying in the bed, staring up at the ceiling again.

* * *

I heard the door shut as she left my apartment. I had no idea how she planned to get home, and the gentleman in me was screaming that I hadn't stopped her from leaving the bed, much less the room or the apartment. The memories of the night before slammed around in my mind. Milah and Neah's betrayal and whatever the hell had happened with Emma and me. I yanked myself out of bed and headed for the shower. I could still feel her touch, her kisses on my body. I turned the water to cold, hoping to kill whatever beast had taken up residence, but all it did was bring to mind the vision of Emma, hot and writhing beneath me. I sang _The Star Spangled Banner_ ; I sang _Happy Birthday_. I kept singing until the crazy lust inside me passed.


	8. Chapter 8

I walked into the loft apartment I shared with Mary Margaret, having called a cab upon leaving Killian's. David and Mary Margaret were at the kitchen table chatting when I walked in. I put my purse down and took my boots off before wandering into the kitchen for some coffee. I could hear the two of them murmuring behind me. I leaned against the counter, sipping my coffee, watching the two of them interact. They really were made for one another, and I was just a little bit jealous of how easy they seemed to have it.

David stood, kissing Mary Margaret on the forehead. "I'll see you later?" he asked, as if it were actually a bonafide question.

"Yep. We've got dinner with Ruby and Will tonight. We're talking about flowers," she said smiling up at him. Their wedding was six weeks away, and all the plans were in full swing. Mary Margaret and I were going in for dress fittings that afternoon.

David left, waving a goodbye to me. Mary Margaret turned on me the moment the door closed behind him.

"Alright, sister, spill it." She pulled a chair out and slapped the seat. "We aren't leaving this house until you give me every, single, sordid detail."

I groaned and rolled my eyes. There was no avoiding the _Mary Margaret Inquisition_. No matter how hard you tried or how far you ran, she would pin you down with those dark green eyes and that sweet, motherly smile, until you spilled your guts. I figured I should get it over with and meandered over to the proffered seat.

"What happened last night after we left? Killian looked like he was ready to kill someone, and you looked like you were ready to fall apart." She had placed her hand over mine, leaning in, the touch was comforting, and I could feel the tears welling up. Leave it to Mary Margaret to incite waterworks.

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep from losing it and told her what happened. She sat, listening intently, saying nothing, instead her face showing her increasing shock and anger, until I got to the part about having sex with Killian.

"Emma! Oh, my god!" She huffed back into her chair. "You slept with Killian?"

"Actually, I think I kind of seduced him, really," I said to her, eyes downcast in shame.

She snorted at me. "I don't think it would take much for you to seduce Killian. He's always been the biggest flirt."

I could feel my face get hot, embarrassment flooding my cheeks. "Gee, thanks." I said. Yes, Killian was a bit of a chick magnet, but he had always been faithful to Milah. He wasn't a player, despite his many, many opportunities.

"No, Emma, no," Mary Margaret said, rushing forward to grab me in a big hug. "I didn't mean he would've been like that with just anyone. Yes, he's a flirt, but you could never be just some fling with him. I know your instinct is to always believe the worst about yourself, no matter what anyone else says, but if Killian was holding anything back, it was not because of you. It would have been because he _is_ a good man. David and I have noticed it so many times, I figured you surely would have seen it."

"Seen what?" I asked, pulling back.

"Killian cares for you, and not in some boring, innocent, sisterly way," she said, like it was common knowledge.

"What? That's crazy. He and Milah…" but she cut me off.

"He and Milah were convenient. The only reason he didn't break things off with her long ago was that you were so happy with Neal. I'm sure he didn't want to be the odd man out."

"Well, that was a waste of everyone's time," I said, getting up to put my empty cup in the dishwasher, Mary Margaret followed me into the kitchen.

"Are you going to talk to him?"

"Which one?" I grumbled as I slammed the dishwasher closed. "My cheating bastard of a fiancé, ex fiancé, or…"

"Or the one who totally curled your toes last night?" she interrupted.

"Ugh. I don't want to talk to either of them. Neal is a bastard, and he can go to hell for all I care."

Mary Margaret put a calming hand on my shoulder. "But what about Killian? He's got to be reeling over what happened just as much as you are."

I leaned back against the counter. "I have no idea what he's thinking. He just laid there staring at the ceiling, looking for all he's worth like he wanted to disappear into the mattress. He wouldn't talk to me at all, so I just left."

Mary Margaret leaned back, her head cocked to the side. She was looking at me like she looked at wedding stuff, all serious and contemplative. "Hmmm."

I crossed my arms over my chest. I felt like a bug on the floor she might just squash. "Hmmmm?" I prompted after several beats.

"Ok, so, Neal's out of the picture…"

"Oh, most definitely," I snarked back at her.

"You're going to need a date for the various upcoming wedding events. Killian will, too. It'll be perfect."

"God, Mary Margaret, it will be a disaster!" I could just see being ferried around on Killian's arm for the next six weeks. We'd both be suicidal by the wedding.

"No, it'll be fun. I'm sure Killian will be the perfect gentleman."

I'm sure we'd end up either miserable or doing something more stupid than we already had.


	9. Chapter 9

I knew I needed to talk to Neal, but I kept putting it off. It was a week later when I finally got up the courage to go over to his place. I pulled into the parking lot of his building and walked up the front steps of the ancient brownstone. Climbing the stairs to his door, I found it open, the apartment completely empty. I walked back down to the ground floor where the manager's apartment was located and knocked.

"Yeah," his sleep weary voice said as he opened the door. He was dressed in boxers and a wife-beater. I had never met the man, and I wasn't was sorry.

"Hi, I'm Emma Swan, Neal Cassady's… friend. I was just up to his apartment, but it's empty."

"Yeah, moved out two days ago. He and his girl were heading to New York."

"New York?" I asked, stunned.

"Yeah, New York," and he closed the door in my face.

I walked back to my car and just drove. Somehow I wound up back at the Jolly Roger. A few regulars were dispersed around the dimly lit room with a small group of guys were playing darts. I looked towards the bar and found Killian staring at me through the mirror. We hadn't seen each other since I had walked out of his apartment.

As I walked over to sit next to him, he raised two fingers to the bartender to order us drinks. I picked mine up and sipped. It was not my usual, but it was delicious and smooth. "Mmm, what is this?" I asked.

"It's Jolly Roger whiskey. Some of the best stuff a lot of money can buy," he said. "Drink up, love," he said, clinking our classes together.

I took another drink. It really was quite good. "Neal and Milah bailed and went to New York."

"Aye. I heard."

We sat there, together, drinking expensive whiskey, neither of us having a clue what to do next. Killian sat his glass down and turned on the barstool to face me.

"So, about the other night…" he started.

I took another drink. I knew where the conversation was headed. I had been thinking about that night over and over for a week, usually lying in my bed at night, getting myself all hot and bothered. I started thinking about what I did after I got myself all hot and bothered, and then I sat there blushing and, well, getting all hot and bothered. The man was a demon. He had to be.

Killian was watching me closely. I wondered if he could see my face heating up or if the dim lighting hid it well enough. Knowing that even if he couldn't see my blushing, he would probably see it if I looked up into his eyes. I decided to risk it. His were clouded with something I couldn't quite read. He glanced out towards the main room of the bar, struggling for words to express whatever was on his mind. After a moment, I turned back to the bar to nurse my drink.

Without turning, he finally began to speak. "I was angry," he said in a huff of breath. "I think back, and I can't begin to figure out why, though. I knew there was something off with Milah and me a long time ago. I just refused to see it, I guess. Didn't want to deal with it." He turned back to the bar, still not looking at me. "I had hoped we had something special, something that was on par with what you and Neal had. I thought about proposing more than once…" He tapered off. He took my hand and caressed my finger, the one that, until a week ago, had worn Neal's ring. His hand was still bandaged from smashing the window.

"How's your hand feeling?" I asked.

Ignoring my question, he got up and went to put money in the jukebox. Leaning over the Plexiglas, he punched in whatever songs he had chosen. He shoved himself off the machine and sauntered back, sitting heavily on the barstool.

Taking my hand back in his, he continued to stroke my fingers. "I didn't realize until she was gone why I hadn't been able to." He stopped again, his fingers stilling on my hand. He laced his bandaged fingers through mine and pulled my hand to his mouth for the softest kiss. "That morning, I didn't know what to say to you. You were trying so hard to make things alright, but they just weren't. I never wanted you like that."

"Killian," I choked, pulling my hand free. He never wanted me. "Look, I know you loved Milah. I'm sorry I took advantage of your pain to try to assuage my own. It wasn't fair, and now things are totally screwed up."

* * *

I stared at her face, and I could tell she was near tears again. She took advantage of me? I laughed out loud. I couldn't help myself. She turned her head to look at me, eyes clouded with confusion and, damn it, pain. I took her face in my hands and pulled her to me, leaning my forehead against hers.

"Sweet, sweet Emma, love, I'm pretty sure it was I who took advantage of you. I didn't mean to laugh, love, it's just so preposterous. And I'm so sorry for what happened. You're right, of course, neither of us was in a place even remotely not bad, and what happened was quite amazing despite the fact that it does muck things up a bit."

"Still," she said, "if things hadn't been what they were, that never would have happened."

I pulled away from her, trailing my hand down her cheek to rest on her shoulder, thumbing her neck. "Emma, all things considered, no, if Neal and Milah hadn't cheated on us and left us both alone, I like to think that neither of us would have done what they did and ended up in bed together. I would very much like to believe that we are both more honorable than that."

Still refusing to look me in the eye, she turned back to the bar. "Honorable. Right." Her voice was dull. She sat there, staring at her glass for several minutes. I had no idea what to say to her.

* * *

 _How could Mary Margaret even think that Killian had a crush on me? That's just crazy. He just laughed at my ability to seduce him, and then he goes off and says that he never would have slept with me. It wouldn't have been honorable. Jesus Christ! I'm not hideous. First Neal, and now even Killian, the incurable flirt, thinks I'm hilariously not sexy._

I felt a tear start to fall, and I didn't want him to see me cry again. I faked a sneeze to grab a napkin to wipe my eyes. "So, basically, if not for the circumstances you wouldn't have touched me with a ten foot pole."

I looked over at him, glaring at him, daring him to deny it. His eyes were huge, and then he smiled at me again. The bastard smiled at me.

"That isn't what I meant," he started.

"Nope, I'm good. Mary Margaret seemed to think that since our respective dates for the various wedding events have effectively bailed on us, we could go together. I think I'd rather go stag." I finished my drink in one gulp, and walked out of the bar.


	10. Chapter 10

I stared at Emma as she stalked out of the bar. _What the hell just happened?_ I had just spent the entire week trying to figure out what to say to her, and apparently I needed at least another month.

I had known Milah wasn't going to last. My gut had been telling me that for months, rearing its ugly head every time I even thought about proposing to her. We'd been together so long, it just seemed like the natural progression. The problem was, I had finally figured out, was that I wanted something else, someone else. I stayed with Milah to keep up pretenses, to avoid doing something really awful, like steal one of my best mates' girl, but I wanted to. God, how I wanted to, since the moment I laid eyes on her.

We had a gig at the Jolly Roger. We'd just made it to Boston and had about a dozen dates lined up. Leaving New York had been a huge decision. If Boston didn't prove more lucrative, our next stop was probably LA. We were trying to get signed, but there was just too much competition in New York. It was about nine o'clock on the evening of our gig, and we were setting up on the stage. The girls weren't helping, per usual, but were instead hitting the bar and mixing it up with some of the locals. They'd all be trashed by night's end, and we'd have to carry _them_ out as well as our gear.

"Ok, if this doesn't work out and we end up in LA, we are _not_ bringing them with us," Joe said. "They're fucking useless anymore."

"At least they aren't useless at fucking," Cam said, waggling his eyebrows at Joe.

Joe just rolled his eyes and left to go back for his amp.

"Seriously, mate?" I said.

"Dude, they're groupies. They've never been anything other than groupies. Sheila doesn't give a shit about me. Do you really think Milah loves you?" The look on Cam's face said he surely doubted it, but I loved her and believed she loved me. I glanced over at where they were all lounging at the bar. They were all dressed in our band t-shirts, tight jeans, and high heels. Our cheerleaders, I supposed. Slutty cheerleaders. I shook myself, trying to clear my head.

I finished setting up and walked over to the bar to get a drink. "Rum, please," I said to the bartender as he came to take my order. I turned back to watch the girls. Sheila was flirting with a couple of guys down on the far end of the bar. Lisa was playing her wingman. Milah had wandered over to a booth where a group of people were nursing beers. I took my drink and walked over to where she was. At least she wasn't hitting on anyone.

"Killian, hey hon, I made some new friends. This is David and Mary Margaret and Emma and Neal," she said, introducing the two couples at the table. "Guys, this is my Killian."

 _My_ Killian, she'd said. Well, that was something. "Ah, a string quartet! Are you staying for the show?" I asked. Glancing around at them all. My eyes stuck on Emma. She was so beautiful and so very different from dark Milah. Emma was like the sun, all blonde hair and sea green eyes. She smiled at me, and I felt my chest tighten. _What the hell?_ I could feel my face start to heat. She took a gulp of her beer before glancing over at Neal.

"Yeah, man, we're hanging for the show." It was Neal who spoke. The others all chimed in with various "yeahs" and nods of assent. "Milah here was just telling us how great you guys are. She convinced us to hang around." He smiled up at Milah. I thought I saw a glint of something in his eyes. Milah lightly shoved his shoulder, pushing him into Emma enough that she spilled some of her beer into her lap.

"Neal!" Emma cried out.

"Sorry, babe," he said, not seeming to be sorry. "Here let me help." He grabbed some napkins from the dispenser on the table and started dabbing at her lap rather boisterously. She twitched under his pawing, trying to stop him but seeming to enjoy it all the same.

"Alright, down boy. I think I'll be ok." She gave him a flaming smile, and he nodded towards the back door. "We'll be back in a few," Emma told her friends as Neal dragged her out of the booth and out into the night.

I glanced over at David and Mary Margaret, who looked like the defeated parents of a couple of wayward teens. "Sorry about that," Mary Margaret said. "Neal is a bit of a beast sometimes."

Milah wrapped herself around me. "Oh, I understand," she said, almost purring. "You get your hands on something you want, and it's very difficult to let it go." She reached up and nipped my ear. I reached around her, gripping her around the waist. "We have an hour or so…" she breathed into my ear.

I smiled at David and Mary Margaret. "I suppose Neal isn't the only beast around," I said, as Milah dragged me backstage.

The gig finally started, and we seemed to be a hit. Most of the people were up dancing, including Neal and Emma. I tried not to stare, but watching her move made the heat rush through my body. The next song we sang was a slow one, and Neal pulled her into a tight embrace, one hand on her ass dragging her against him, the other around her back pinning her in. It was nothing if not possessive. She had her arms around his neck, her face buried in his chest. She seemed content and happy, but his eyes were wandering the bar around him. I couldn't imagine having a beautiful woman wrapped around me like that and be anything other than focused on her.

The slow song turned back into more fast paced music, and the night eventually ended. Back at our motel, Milah was unusually amorous, dragging me to the shower to help wash off the smell of cigarette and sweat. She was all over me, begging me to make her come. I barely had an erection.

"What's wrong, baby, you always want a good go in the sack after a gig." She pouted at me, stroking my cock. I closed my eyes, and a vision of Emma swam in front of me. I let Milah play with her toy, but I was thinking about Emma.

"Milah, I'm just tired. Not tonight, ok?" I was not interested. I was, however, interested in a beautiful blonde whose green eyes swan in my mind. I felt myself getting more aroused.

"There's what I want," I heard Milah murmur as she nearly swallowed me whole.

 _Fuck. This is not what I want._ I jerked her up and turned her around. Bending her over in front of me, I roughly slammed into her. Grabbing her hips to keep her steady in the slippery shower, I pounded into her angrily. She tried to pull my hand around to stroke her, but I just grabbed her ass harder. Eventually, she took care of that particular task on her own.

"Oh, God, Killian, faster," she moaned. I was losing control, envisioning blonde hair hanging from the woman in front of me, wishing I were anywhere else. I sped up, wanting to go to bed and get some sleep. Finally she came, her walls sucking at my cock as the wave crashed over her, bringing my own desperate release.

I woke up the next morning with her wrapped around me. My dreams had haunted me most of the night, erotic dreams of Emma in the shower. The lingering heat from the dreams left me hard and ready. I pushed Milah over onto her back, stroking her with my fingers, waking her up, making her ready for me. Her eyes were wide with pleasure as I rammed into her. I pulled her legs around my waist and tilted her hips for better access. I could feel myself hitting her wall again and again, hard. She arched her back up off the bed, gripping the sheets around her as she struggled not to scream and wake the neighbors. She came quickly, and I followed almost immediately. I pulled from her roughly and went to take another shower.

I leaned against the shower wall while hot water sluiced down my body. I was not the kind of man to use a woman. I had pretty much just fucked the woman I was supposed to love. Milah teased me often about being a gentleman. She thought it made me weak. I imagine she enjoyed the roughness. Not that I minded roughness, I just wanted something a little more to go with it. Was it too much to ask for love? I had to get Emma out of my mind. She was just some blonde I met at a bar and would probably never see again.


	11. Chapter 11

There had been other moments, over the years, when thoughts of Emma invaded. As we hopped around Boston, their quartet came to quite a few shows. We started hanging out at the Jolly Roger on off nights and got to be friends. It was usually just Milah and me, the other guys in the band more interested in the local strip joints. We got into a rhythm, playing darts, drinking, just being friends. About six months into our stint in Boston, the band decided it was time to head to LA. I decided I wasn't quite ready for LA, preferring the Boston scene.

Besides, the guys in the band were rather lecherous. In the time I had spent hanging out in Boston, I felt it might be the possibility of _home_. I was tired of hopping from bar to bar singing for pennies. I wanted something different, something more stable.

I left the band, or rather they left me, and life sort of happened. I ended up teaching music at a local community center. I had a lot of fun working with the kids, helping them hone skills or develop new ones. I occasionally missed the stage, but I truly enjoyed watching my students play instead.

When David and Mary Margaret got engaged a year prior, I started thinking about my relationship with Milah. She had stuck around after the band left, and I felt closer to her. I thought about proposing a number of times, but each time I would wander to a jewelry store, I found myself wondering what Emma would want in a ring. Knowing that was not the way to go about things, I usually walked right back out of the store. When Neal proposed to Emma, I stopped even going into jewelry stores.

The weird thing was, Milah never hinted or commented at all about us getting married. She seemed to be happy working as a waitress at a diner down the street from the bar. She occasionally grumbled about missing the music scene and New York, but she seemed happy, sort of. It wasn't until that night at the Jolly Roger that I realized she had been just as unhappy as I had. I decided to give her a call.

"Killian?" she answered.

I wasn't quite sure what I was going to say, but I felt something needed to be said. "Hey, Mi," I said. It came out gruff. "How's New York?" I asked her.

"What do you want, Killian?" she asked, wary of my call.

I sighed. The call might go down as one of my stupidest moves ever. "I just called to say that…" I stopped. Why was I the one saying this? "Well, I'm sorry." She was quiet on the other end. I heard her talking to someone else and then a door closed.

"Why are _you_ sorry?" she asked.

I let out a huge sigh and just bit the bullet. "Because I dragged this out longer than I should have. I should have left you in New York, but only because you would've been happier. I didn't want things to end like this. After all this time, I _do_ care about you."

She was silent again. I could just see her standing against a wall, twirling her hair, trying to figure out what to say.

"Look, I'm sorry I called. I just, well, I just wanted to say that. I'll let you go." I started to hang up.

"Killian, wait. I'm sorry, too. I know you weren't happy. When I knew there was something between Neal and me, well, I should have done something. I let it go, and things just got way out of hand. I didn't want you to find out like that. Well, sort of."

"Sort of?" I asked.

"I didn't know how to tell you. I guess it was easier to get caught than to confess."

I laughed into the phone. "Yeah, I guess that's one way to handle it."

"I'm glad you called. I've been wanting to call you, but I just couldn't do it," she said, sounding sincere. "I care about you, too. I just want you to be happy."

Somehow I didn't think that was in my cards. "Thanks, Mi. Take care of yourself down there."

"I will. Take care yourself, bud." And she was gone.


	12. Chapter 12

My phone lit up with a message from Killian.

 _We need to talk. –K_

I sat and stared at the screen. I did not want to do this, talk to him, at all.

 _No, we don't. –E_

 _Emma, look, this is ridiculous. Meet me at the Jolly in an hour. –K_

I ignored the text, to no avail.

 _Emma, please? –K_

I could see him sitting somewhere glaring at his phone. He was probably growling.

"Emma?" David said. I was sitting in the living room, curled up in the squishy chair.

"Hmm?" I looked up at him.

He gave me that look he'd managed to steal from Mary Margaret: head tilted down and to the side, eyes narrowed, grimace on his face. The look that tells the person on the other side that their lies would not be believed. The one that said, _spill it, if you ever want any peace in your life again._

I snorted at him. "Do not pull the _Mary Margaret_ on me, buddy. I am not in the mood." I got up to go to my bedroom to brood in private, but David grabbed my arm and pulled me back to face him.

"It's Killian, isn't it?" he asked me, his voice a near whisper as he watched me stare at my phone. My jaw clenched, and I remembered watching another jaw clench in pain, a tick along scruff.

"David, I do not want to talk about it," I said, trying to pull away. His grasp was iron, and he wasn't about to let me go until we'd had it out. At least Mary Margaret didn't get physical. Of course, with those eyes of hers, you melted without the vice grip.

He gently pushed me back in my chair, sitting himself on the coffee table in front of me, hands on my knees to keep me sitting. "Emma, both Mary Margaret _and_ Killian told me what happened."

"Great, now I'm gossip fodder," I said, trying to keep the snarkiness out of my voice and failing miserably. My phone went off again, and David took it from me, reading the message. I yanked it back from him.

 _Damn it, I am not letting you pull this shit. I will be at the Jolly Roger in an hour. You need to hear what I have to say. –K_

"Damn _him_! I don't want to hear what he has to say." I threw my phone on the sofa. "He sat there in the bar and made me feel hideous, like I was just some… fuck." I was furious. I felt used, unwanted, and humiliated.

* * *

I sighed, heavy and deep. I had watched Killian struggle with his feelings for both Milah and Emma for a long time. I knew Emma would never be _that_ to Killian, no matter what he had said to her. Mary Margaret had said the same thing, and to Emma, but it didn't matter. Emma's childhood was such that she had a difficult time believing anyone could truly care for her. It took a long time for her to let any of us really in.

"Emma," I said, trying to stay calm. "I know you don't believe this, and I know Mary Margaret has already told you the same thing. You could never be just a…" I hesitated over the word. I really hated that word. "…one night stand to Killian. You could never be that to him."

She looked up at me, her green eyes full of bitterness and scorn. She shoved back against the chair in a huff. Her voice was small, quiet, while she stared down at her hands. "He said he never wanted me like _that_."

"Emma, I am quite sure that isn't what he meant, at least not entirely."

She huffed at me again. "Not entirely?" she asked.

I looked down at the floor. How do you convince someone how beautiful they are to someone else? How can you get them to realize that their stupid walls were pulling meaning from words that didn't exist?

"Killian most definitely _wants_ you, Emma. He's wanted you since the day you met. But you were with Neal; you loved Neal. He wouldn't have come between the two of you. He never wanted to hurt you."

She crossed her arms over her chest, but she looked like she was actually thinking about what I'd said. "I have to go, Em, but think about it, ok?"

"Mmmhmm," she mumbled at me, not looking up.

"I gotta go get Mary Margaret. I'll catch you later, k?" I leaned over and kissed the top of her head.


	13. Chapter 13

I was half an hour early getting to the bar. I couldn't sit in my apartment anymore after David had called, telling me about his conversation with Emma. He thought she might, _might_ show. So, I figured I'd go have a drink, or four, and throw a few darts. I needed to clear my head. Leroy, our smarmy bartender, poured me a pint the minute I walked into the room. He was a good bloke, always on top of the patrons.

"Hey, Killian, you're in early today," he said, handing me the bulbed pint glass full of Guinness.

"Yeah, got some time to kill, figured a pint or two would help me along." I toasted him with my glass as I walked over to the dartboards. I threw a few before one of the regulars, Robin, came over and asked for a game of cricket. It was a good distraction. I had a few more beers; we played a few games. I finally looked down at my watch. It was a half hour past when Emma should have showed.

"Time to go, mate?" Robin asked.

"No, just checking the time. Be right back," I said, trying to hide the fact that my chest had started to collapse under my shirt. I walked over to the bar and ordered a whiskey. It was time to get good and drunk. I slammed the first one, and Leroy poured me another, quirking an eyebrow at me.

"Is she worth it, mate?" he asked.

"Aye," I said, my throat tight. He handed me the bottle.

He gave me a quick, sharp nod. "Just don't drive anywhere. I'll call you a cab when you're ready," he said as he walked away.

Robin had wandered back over to his table, so I slung myself over a barstool, wishing I could be anywhere but getting drunk in a bar over a woman who wouldn't even talk to me. I don't know how long I sat there staring at my glass, refilling it occasionally, when the bell over the door jingled. I looked at my watch again, another hour had gone by. I waved at Leroy to get my tab. I'd walk home.

* * *

It had been two and a half hours since he last texted me, demanding that I show up. It was long past the time he should have given up and left. I still sat in the cushy chair in the living room, being mulish. There was no other word for it, really. David and Mary Margaret had both told me the same thing, but I couldn't blame Killian for letting things go so long without telling me how he felt. I knew it always looked like Neal and I were wrapped up in each other, but I didn't want to be alone… again… or still… or at all. And at least Neal was there, well, until he wasn't. But still, if I had known… What would I have done?

Loud banging at the door broke me from my reverie. I looked at my watch. It was two hours past when I should've been at the bar. I knew it was Killian, knew he would hunt me down, which is probably why I had stayed where I was. Some morbid insanity of mine kept me home, knowing he would eventually come here, allowing me to avoid some messy showdown in the bar. _You're a coward, Swan._

The banging. "Swan!" More banging. "Swan! Open this bloody door right now before I break it down!" His words were slurred. I could tell he had spent his time at the Jolly productively. I heaved a sigh and dragged myself out of the chair to open the door.

He was completely wrecked, hair a mess, both hands grasping opposite sides of the doorframe, holding himself up, it seemed. I had already cried myself into a state of dehydration, but I could still feel tears prick my eyes. His eyes were rimmed with the red of alcohol; the blue irises dark with hurt and pain. Milah had left him, and then, whatever happened between us. I didn't know what to say.

I opened the door wide to let him in. I could see the faintest flicker of hope warring with the agony on his face.

"You stood me up," he said, his voice thick and gruff with liquor.

"I don't take orders."

"I got drunk."

"You do appear to be quite intoxicated."

"Bloody hell."

He stumbled through the foyer and flopped onto the sofa, head thrown against the back. "I guess it's not a good time to have this talk you were all fired up to have?" I asked.

"Probably not."

He sat there staring at the ceiling. I walked over behind the sofa, sitting on the edge. I followed his gaze to the ceiling. "Still nothing very interesting up there."

"No." He closed his eyes. "You stood me up. I may be drunk, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten what I wanted to say." With cat-like reflexes he reached around behind me, and with very little effort, he had me in his lap. "And you're going to listen to me, whether you want to or not, because it needs to be said.

"I never said that I didn't _want_ you, Emma," he continued, his blue eyes boring into my face. I tried to pull away. His arm tightened, his other hand grabbed my face to force me to look at him. "No, Swan. You are bloody well going to listen to me. I've wanted you too bloody much for too bloody long. What I did _not_ want," he said, popping the ts despite his slight, drunken slurring, "was for it to be about anything other than how we might feel about one another. And that is it what it was. It was about pain and hurt and Milah and Neal. It wasn't about us. So, when I said I did not want you like _that_ , _that_ is what I meant."

* * *

There. I'd said it. Now I wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep off the half bottle of whiskey I'd drank in under an hour. I had her complete attention, had my say, and now, all I wanted was to pass out. I loosened my hold on her and put my head back against the sofa again, the room spinning mercilessly. "Since when did you start living in a carousel?" I asked, closing my eyes again.

She climbed awkwardly off my lap and left the room. She came back a few seconds later with a large bottle of water.

"Here. Drink it," she said, shoving it in my hand. Her other hand held aspirin. I drained half the bottle then took the aspirin before finishing off the water. When I was done, she held out her hand to me. I looked up at her face, not knowing what she was trying to do.

"You need to sleep this off. Come on. Bed." She pulled me from the sofa and half dragged me down the hall to her room.

"I need to go home," I said.

She shook her head at me, pulling me into the room and closing the door. She turned to me and started pulling off my shirt.

"Emma, stop, I can call a cab. I shouldn't have come over like this." I tried to stop her from disrobing me, but I was entirely too inebriated to fight her. She was at my belt, having already removed my shoes. She had me in my boxers and down in the bed within seconds, tucked in like a sick child.

She walked over to the door, glancing over her shoulder at me. "I'll be right back," she said.

When she came back into the room, she had more water and a wet washcloth, which she laid across the back of my neck. I was clumsy as I tried to grab her hand before it was out of reach. "Emma," I whispered, all energy drained. I brought her hand to my lips, kissing the palm. That was the last thing I remember.

* * *

After he passed out, I dragged a chair in from the dining room. It wouldn't be comfortable, but I didn't want him to end up sick and alone. He could aspirate and die, and no one would know. I grabbed a book from my bookshelf and settled in to read. He would be out for at least a couple of hours. Dusk slowly settled on the city, darkening the room. I got up to turn on a lamp, and he stirred in the bed.

"Hey, sleepy head," I said, smiling at him a little. Having been blitzed a few times myself, I knew he had to feel like crap. I handed him one of the water bottles as he sat up in the bed. He drained it and reached over for the second. It was gone just as quickly. He flopped back on the bed, staring, again, at the damned ceiling.

He stayed like that for several minutes. Figuring he might need a minute, I turned to leave. He grabbed my hand, pulling me back to sit beside him on the bed. "Once again, I need to apologize. I had not originally intended to tell you… how I felt in that fashion."

"What? Drunk off your ass?" I tried not to laugh, but a wry chuckle escaped anyway.

"Aye," he said, staring at the hand he still held prisoner.

"Maybe it's for the best," I said.

He finally looked up at me, confusion on his face. "How so?"

"Well," I said, turning to face him and reclaiming my hand. "If you'd been sober, you might have had a more difficult time telling me how you felt. You know, since you've _not said a damn word to me about it in how many God damn years?"_ My control snapped. His eyes popped wide. "How long, Killian, from your lips, not anyone else's. How long? It seems everyone knew but me." I was yelling. I hated yelling.

He collapsed back on the pillow, eyes closed this time, hands over his face, having lost his fascination with the ceiling. "Please don't yell."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, in a whisper of venom. "Perhaps next time you feel the need to be an idiot, go crash down someone else's door."

A minute went by in total silence. "Since that first night," he said softly, answering my question. He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I have been in love with you since we met." The last bit came out as a whisper.

"In love with me?" I was in shock. "Killian, wait, what?"

"I know. It's ridiculous, but that's the only thing I can come up with. Look," he said, climbing out of the bed on the other side, grabbing his clothes off the dresser. "I'm just going to go. I know you aren't ready for this. I just wanted you to know that what happened that night wasn't casual for me. It wasn't how I wanted to end up in bed with you, but it meant something to me, more than you will ever know."

He was dressed now, standing before me while I looked up at him in stunned silence. His hand reached down to slide across my cheek, thumb grazing my lower lip. He sunk his fingers into my hair at the back of my neck and pulled my face to his as he leaned down to kiss me. My lips parted involuntarily, and his tongue touched mine as our lips pressed together. My hands reached up to grab his t-shirt. His hand constricted in my hair, almost, but not quite, crushing my mouth to his. It was passionate, full of want and need, but gentle all at the same time. He pulled back, kissed my forehead, turned, and left without another word.


	14. Chapter 14

_I had to go back and edit this chapter at the end as I flubbed some continuity. Sorry if there's any confusion!_

* * *

Two more weeks went by with no word from Killian. Mary Margaret was walking around on eggshells. David was avoiding our apartment. I felt like crap. It seemed preposterous that he could be in love with me. We'd been with other people the whole time we knew each other. That kind of crap only happened in the movies or stupid, romantic television shows. Real life did _not_ work that way.

Real life did, however, throw curveballs. I had been offered a promotion at work, but it required a bit of a location, to Tucson. I hadn't told anyone about it, but it was quite an offer. The job included a lot of travel and a nice paycheck. It would also get me out of Boston and away from the angst and drama of the last month. A fresh start.

Mary Margaret got home late that night. I was sitting on the sofa, drinking a glass of wine, just staring at the wall.

"Hey," she said, looking at me like I might shoot her in the face just for breathing.

"Hey," I said with a smile. I felt like I hadn't smiled in a year. It hurt my face, but it felt good to smile. "Want some?" I asked, holding my glass up.

She smiled back at me, beamed, really. "I would love some."

She walked into the kitchen to grab a glass, walking back to sit beside me on the sofa. I poured her some wine, and we clinked glasses.

"How's it going?" she asked. She was tentative, trying not to push. It was weird. She was usually as tenacious as a tiger.

I took a decent sip of my wine, setting the glass down on the coffee table. "It's going pretty well. I kind of wanted to talk to you about it, actually."

She turned on the sofa to face me, all smiles. I could tell she was hoping it was something about Killian. I hated to see that hope in her face, knowing I was going to ruin it. "I'm all ears," she said.

I wanted to scream. This was so hard, and I felt so guilty. I was running. I knew I was running, but I needed to do it. "I got a promotion at work," I said, smiling back at her.

"Oh, Emma, that's wonderful," she said, pulling me into a big hug. "You must be so excited."

I pulled back, smiling again to ease the sting of my withdrawal. "I am, but there's a catch." I watched as she tensed and the hope left her face. "The new position is in Tucson."

She took a deep breath, relaxing back into the sofa, taking a drink of her wine. "Emma, I know you're running. I know you're hurting, and you feel like you need to get as far away from all this as you possibly can…"

"Yes," I cut her off, but she jumped right back in, spoiling for a fight, it seemed.

"And I understand," she finished, her eyes filled with her love for me and, most amazingly, her acceptance. "David and I have been wondering when you were going to pack up and run. We were both hoping and praying you'd still be around for the wedding?" The last was more a question than a statement.

I took her wine glass and sat it on the table so I could wrap her in my own bear hug. "Mary Margaret, of _course_ I'm going to be here for the wedding. I wouldn't miss it for… well, for anything." When I pulled away, we both had tears in our eyes.

"You're my maid of honor, you have to be there." We both smiled and sniffled at the same time, laughing at ourselves. "Are you going to be ok with K… with the best man?" she asked, stuttering a little to avoid his name.

"I'll be fine. I promise. I'll behave myself and everything."

* * *

Mary Margaret and I were at the dress shop for our final fittings as we had two more weeks to go before the wedding. Mary Margaret was so happy and beautiful in her dress. She looked like a fairy tale princess. I was the maid of honor, and Ruby was the only other bride's maids. It was going to be a simple wedding, just Killian, Ruby, another friend of David's, and me standing up with them. I was not looking forward to the wedding.

She had picked out a beautiful deep purple color for our dresses but didn't care what they looked like. The dress I had picked out was a strapless column gown with a wide ribbon sash that wrapped around my chest to my hips, spilling down in a beautiful drape. It really was a beautiful dress. I could even wear it again, and with the new job, there would be more opportunities. Mary Margaret loved it. Neal had liked it, too, but that was water under the bridge.

We left our perfectly tailored dresses with the shop for cleaning and pressing and headed off to the stationary shop to pick up the Thank You notes. They had been printed with the wrong return address on the envelopes, so they'd had to reprint them. After that last stop, it was lattes at Starbucks. I had been avoiding the bar, knowing the chances of running into Killian were high.

I had staunchly refused to talk to Mary Margaret about what had happened between Killian and me. She knew it hadn't been good, because Killian had also been out of sorts. David said he was grumpier than a bear who missed out on the season's hibernation.

I had spent the last weeks packing and getting ready for my move to Arizona. The moving truck would pick up my stuff the Monday before the wedding. The company had me setup with a hotel until I found a place. My stuff would sit in storage until I got settled. David and Killian were moving Mary Margaret over to his place that Wednesday. I was just glad I had to work. It was keeping me sane, more or less.


	15. Chapter 15

It was the night before the wedding, and we were all out at Indian Pond Country Club for the weekend. David and Mary Margaret were getting married on a bridge on the golf course. They'd had their first kiss on a bridge somewhere, and they'd decided to tie the proverbial knot on one. I was just trying to keep it together in the midst of all their happiness. Dave and Mary Margaret were chatting with the minister and the wedding coordinator while everyone else was just sort of milling around.

The ladies all looked lovely in summer dresses, but Emma, of course, stood out with those long, blonde tresses of hers pulled up in a wild pony tail, curls cascading around her face and neck. She was stunning. Given that she was the maid of honor and I the best man, the next two days would probably prove to be my undoing. I was leaned up against the end of the bridge, hard stone jabbing into my back. The discomfort was… helpful. I stopped watching the ladies and looked out over the golf course. The sun was setting and with the light cloud cover, the sky was turning pink, orange, and purple. Fingers of the lingering sunlight stabbed through the trees onto the immaculate lawns.

The setting was beautiful, and I hoped, for Mary Margaret and David, that tomorrow's sky would be the same. I would have preferred a beach, but to each his own. There were white, wooden chairs set up on one side of the bridge, ready for the various guests. There was an aisle down the middle, which I was told would be covered in a carpet for everyone to walk down. Workers were busy setting up two large tents at the back when the wedding coordinator spoke.

"Ok, ladies and gentlemen, I think we're ready to run through this," she said from behind me on the bridge. "Tomorrow the two tents will be setup in the back there. The ladies will be in the one on the right; gentlemen, you're on the left."

"From which direction?" asked Ruby. Ruby was a friend of Mary Margaret's from childhood, in town for the wedding. She was quite the visual distraction, all gorgeous legs, sass, and long, dark, hair.

"The girls have port, and the guys have starboard. The bridge here is the bow. Does that help, Ruby?" asked Dave, teasing her.

Ruby stuck her tongue out at him. "Only if you're a sailor, Dave." She trounced down the aisle, wagging her ass at everyone and went to the wrong tent.

"Your other port, lass," I called out to her. She twirled around, giving me a flirtatious wink, and pranced to the other tent. The workers doing the setup were all staring at her flouncing form.

"Ruby, behave yourself!" Mary Margaret said as she chased after her errant friend, dragging Emma behind her, both giggling.

David rolled his eyes and strolled off down the aisle, another friend of his from work, Graham, and I followed behind. "This is going to be an interesting couple of days," David said.

"Aye, mate, that it is," I said under my breath. David must have heard me as he slowed down, letting Graham pass us by.

"You going to be ok, Killian?" His face showed his concern. I could not, however, let my sour mood spoil his day.

I put on my best Killian Jones smile, "Of course. My best mate's getting married to the woman of his dreams, and there's eye candy," I added lecherously as I glanced over at Ruby flirting with the workers.

"I don't know which one of you I'm more worried about," he said with a smirk. "Who's going to be the seducer and who the seduced?" His voice was playful, but his eyes knew better. She might give it a go, but she'd get nowhere. David knew I wouldn't even try.

I just laughed at him. I had no intention whatsoever of getting anywhere near Miss Ruby. She was a firecracker, easily set off, a fast explosion without the warmth of a real fire beneath. I preferred a slow burn, which was why I was currently smoldering in misery. I shook my head and wandered over to the starboard-side tent.

"Ready guys? Everybody know where they're supposed to be?" Mary Margaret asked, finger poised over a play button on a portable stereo. There was ascension all around, and she pushed the button. The sound of an instrumental version of Elton John's "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" blared from the speakers. Mary Margaret had a hardcore Disney fetish, and the music of the weekend would probably be full of Disney's greatest love songs. I groaned under my breath. She hadn't told anyone what the "bridal march" would be, and we wouldn't find out until tomorrow. The attendants were walking down to Elton, but her song was a big secret.

The wedding coordinator was starting to give orders. "Ok, David, you and the minster will walk down the aisle first." The two of them headed up the aisle. "More slowly, please," she called out to them over the stereo. "You should be in time with the music." David must've been feeling punchy, because he started walking too slowly, dragging his feet. Graham and I laughed. "Mr. Nolan, please," she said, clearly exasperated. David turned to wink at Mary Margaret over his shoulder and fell into the appropriate step.

"If he does that tomorrow, I'm gonna kill him," Mary Margaret said.

"Ruby, Graham, you're next," the coordinator said, stifling a groan.

Ruby and Graham walked towards each other, Graham offering her his arm. She took it gracefully, and they walked down the aisle. They made it about two thirds of the way down the aisle, and it was my turn with Emma.

"Killian, Emma…"

I walked to the center to meet her, offering her my arm. She wouldn't look me in the eye, choosing instead to watch over my shoulder. She took my arm with a slight hesitation, both of us turning to walk down the aisle.

* * *

When I took his arm, it felt like lightning had hit me right in the gut. It was obvious how uncomfortable we both were. I could feel the tension in his arm through the thin dress shirt he wore. He looked amazing, and, unfortunately, he smelled even better. My mind wandered to the fact that it should have been Neal walking me down the aisle, but I couldn't imagine that he would have been able to hold a candle to what Killian would look like the next day in a tuxedo. A flash of Killian in tuxedo pants and nothing else flashed before my eyes.

My wayward thought caused me to stumble in the grass. Killian tightened his grip on my arm, keeping me from falling on my face. "Stupid heels," I mumbled, trying to cover up my embarrassment. I stopped for a moment, kicking them off to the side. I could feel him holding in a chuckle where my bare arm was pressed into his side. I blushed as I looked into cerulean eyes filled with mischief.

"Will you be going barefoot again tomorrow, love?" he asked against my ear.

"There will be a carpet tomorrow. Our heels shouldn't catch in the grass." I dragged my eyes forward, not wanting to look at those damned eyes of his a moment longer.

He glanced back over my shoulder, and then back at me, that cocky eyebrow raised in obvious amusement. "Love, there are no heels on those shoes."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Fortunately, we were at the end of the road, and he let me go to take my place at the edge of the bridge. As I turned to face down the aisle, I caught a glimpse of his face, still smirking at me, trying not to laugh out loud. The blush that had been fading on my cheeks hit all new highs. He waggled his eyebrows at me. I fought a smile, and failed.


	16. Chapter 16

Mary Margaret was up next. The wedding coordinator had taken over the stereo and pushed a couple of buttons. The theme from _Beauty and the Beast_ was what she picked for the rehearsal. I couldn't get her to tell me what she was using for the actual wedding. I'd been trying for three months to pry it out of her. She hadn't even told David, and Mary Margaret was _not_ known for being able to keep a secret. It was amazing she'd held out so long.

She had her ribbon bouquet from her shower held in her hands. Her face was alight with love and hope. She walked steadily and firmly down the aisle, never questioning where she was headed or what she was doing. I'd had knots in my stomach from the time Neal proposed until we broke up at the Jolly Roger. I didn't think I would ever be able to walk down the aisle as a bride with the confidence that oozed from her in waves.

She reached the front and David walked down to meet her, taking her hand and placing it through the crook in his arm. They walked onto the bridge together, and the music stopped. The coordinator hustled forward, too dignified to actually run, and adjusted us a little bit to make sure we all were in perfect place for perfect pictures. She stepped back to admire her artwork and nodded to the minister.

The minister walked us all through the ceremony, when I would take the bouquet (I took it), when they would say their vows (they turned to face one another, holding hands), how everything would work (the wedding coordinator had a few bossy words for us all). After about ten minutes of going over the details, I handed Mary Margaret back her bouquet, and she and David returned down the aisle to another Disney classic that I knew wasn't the _real_ one for the wedding.

Killian and I walked toward one another for our trip back down the aisle; it being at least a little easier than the trip up. Graham and Ruby followed with the minister close behind. The coordinator was quite happy with things, but she wanted to run the whole thing once more. David, Graham, and Ruby groaned. Mary Margaret punched David and queued the music back up.

* * *

The rehearsal was finally finished, and we all retired to a private dining room at the country club. It was a nice dinner, the food quite good, which was promising for the wedding as they were catering. After dinner, we all ended up at the club's watering hole for drinks. At some point in the evening, I ended up alone at the bar, having finally extricated myself from the flirtatious Ruby. Graham wandered over to join me.

"So, Ruby…" he said, hesitating a bit.

I took a deep swallow of my drink. "Aye, Ruby…" I glanced up at him. He looked very uncomfortable. "What is it, Hunter?" I asked, grumbling a bit as I drained my drink.

"Any interest there," he said. "On your part, that is."

I looked at him askance. "Mate, knock yourself out. She is not my type at all."

"Isn't she everyone's type?" Graham asked, his voice low and filled with awe as he stared at her across the room.

I shook my head and chuckled. "Not mine, mate. She's all flash, no photo."

He laughed out loud. "I think it's 'all flash, no substance.'"

"Be that as it may, I prefer my version."

He glanced over my shoulder to the blonde goddess that was Emma at the other end of the bar. "Your version?" he asked.

I glanced down at the other end of the bar to where Graham indicated, seeing Emma sitting alone. I gave Graham a shove towards Ruby. "Go for it, mate. Enjoy yourself," I said, ignoring his innuendo. He laughed at me.

"Good luck, buddy. She seems a bit too prickly for me," he said as he wandered off.

I picked up my glass and walked over to Emma, sitting on the barstool beside her. "So, Tucson?" I asked.

She nodded into her whiskey. She was drinking Jolly Roger again. The bartender had left her the bottle. She noticed my glass was empty and slid the bottle over to me. I poured a good measure into my glass and sipped it.

I picked her hand up off the bar. "I'm going to miss you," I whispered into her fingers. "I'm going to miss you so much. I already do." I turned her hand over and pressed a kiss into the palm.

She pulled her hand free and used it to pull my face towards hers. She made me look in her eyes. What I saw startled me. She looked so utterly lost, eyes full of pain and something else I couldn't decipher. I leaned down, touching our foreheads, noses.

"Emma, do you ever think about…" I faltered. "If, maybe?" My breath caught in my throat, and I couldn't breathe.

* * *

He was so close. My heart fluttered. Suddenly, I was afraid of leaving. "This is the wrong place for this conversation, bud," I pulled back, giving him a small smile. He drew in a shuddery breath. I was just glad he couldn't hear my heart trying to break out of my chest. "Maybe there's another place we can go, for a while?"

We walked over to the guest cottage he, Graham, and David were staying in that night. I could feel the tension thick between us. He walked into the galley kitchen, flipping lights as he went. "Rum or whiskey?" he asked.

"Stocked the place already?" I chuckled.

"It's a party, Swan," he said.

"Rum's fine," I said.

He handed me a half-full tumbler. "Cheers."

We clinked glasses before walking into the cozy living room. We sat down on the sofa, and it was so awkward. We both just sat there, sipping our rum, staring out the window to the darkened golf course. Finally, I drained my glass and turned to face him. I needed to know, to understand, if there might actually be something there between us. He had said he was in love with me, but there was this war inside my head over whether or not that could possibly be true. We had always been friends, good friends. He was, undeniably, gorgeous. But he was also kind, generous, and had been incredibly loving with Milah. He was a good man, and I loved my friend. But could _I_ truly love _him_? _Did_ I?

"Killian." He had frozen at the sound of my voice, like he was waiting for some shoe to drop or a bomb to explode. I took his empty glass and sat it on the table. "When you came over that night to talk about what happened..." My voice sounded breathless, even to my own ears. I knew it sounded that way to him. "I was pretty sure you were crazy. I'm not a hundred percent sure now that you really aren't. I'm leaving in a couple of days. It pretty much screws up whatever _might_ be, but… I don't know what I'm saying." I shook my head and looked down at my hands.

He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, then he turned and looked at me.

"Don't say anything at all," he whispered.

There was fire in his eyes, his ice-blue irises barely visible. His gaze drifted down to my throat, his eyes narrowed as he caught the flutter in that treasonous vein in my neck. Catching the back of my head in his hand, he leaned down to press his lips against my pounding pulse.

My head fell back, and a moan escaped my lips. His left hand slowly brushed up my thigh under the edge of my sundress. His thumb grazed the soft flesh of my inner thigh as he wound his way higher to my hip. My left hand was pinned between his thigh and the sofa cushion, my right went threading through his inky black hair. Abruptly he stood, pulling me with him. His hands snaked under my thighs and wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to the bedroom.

* * *

 **I stole a couple of lines from _Stargate: SG1_ , in case anyone noticed. I always loved Ba'al's line about "all flash, no photo," that fabulous accent and devilish smile very... piratey. :) Hope everyone enjoys! Let me know what you think!**


	17. Chapter 17

He closed the door and pressed my back against it, wedging me between the hard wood and his even harder body. His hips thrust against my core, dragging another moan from my mouth. The light fabric of my sundress a pathetic barrier against his hardness. His face was buried between my breasts as I hung on with both arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He slowly lowered me to the floor, and my knees started to give a little. He gave a throaty little chuckle, catching me and pinning me back against the door to keep me afloat.

His thumb brushed across my mouth, his fingers playing with my jawline. My lips parted, and I think I even started panting a little. His tongue darted between his teeth, wetting his own lips. He moved so slowly I thought he would never get to me. Finally, his soft lips pressed against mine, parting as he sucked my lower lip. His tongue teased my mouth open and dipped in for a slow, burning taste.

My chest tightened and a burning heat started at my ears and slowly sunk down to burn at my core. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and captured his feral growl. His hands lifted the bottom of my dress to pull it over my head. I whimpered at the loss of his lips in that briefest of moments. I heard him chuckle again as he tossed the flimsy fabric to the chair beside his bed.

"You are enjoying this entirely too much," I gasped as his hands brushed lightly against my ribs.

"And we haven't even gotten started, love." He smiled that devilish grin before capturing my mouth once again, his hands flitted lightly across my bare shoulders, tugging at my bra straps, pulling my bra down to free my breasts for his attentions. He kept one hand pressed into my lower back, holding me tightly to him, while the other palmed my breast, teasing my nipple to an unbearable hardness. His mouth left mine to trail wet kisses down my chin and neck to land on that hardened peak.

"God, you taste amazing, love," he moaned against my skin. He pulled my leg up to wrap around his waist, and my back arched of its own volition as his mouth taunted and teased.

Our position gave me an opportunity I couldn't resist, and I ground into his hip. The pressure between my legs was bordering on painful, and I grabbed his ass to pull him tighter against me. His mouth slowed, and he wandered back to my mouth, kissing me softly as he pulled me tighter against him.

"Emma," he whispered softly against my lips. "Open your eyes, love." I could hear the wanton smile on his lips. My head slowly rolled up to face him.

"Your eyes look like the sea, so dark and dangerous." He traced my bottom lip with his tongue, making me whimper again. "Do you want me, love, as much as I want you?" He kissed the corner of my mouth, the side of my face, and wandered again to the pulse at my neck. One hand slid oh-so-slowly between my legs to the lacy fabric of my very wet panties. He groaned. He was back, boring into my face with those eyes. "Love? What do you want?" His eyebrow quirked an inquiry, his lips slanted in a secret smile.

I pounced. My foot hit the floor, and my hands flew to his shirt, ripping buttons as I freed him from the unwieldy Oxford. He unhooked my bra and let his mouth run rampant across my chest. His hands grabbed the thin lace between my thighs and dragged it down my legs. We were naked in less than ten seconds. I pushed him back on the bed, my eyes drawn to every inch of his hardened body.

"Love, you look a bit…" he smirked at me, "hungry?"

I knelt down onto the bed, knees on either side of his thighs and bent down to lick along his shaft, reaching his tip and sucking it into my mouth for a brief moment before letting him go. I heard his sharp intake of breath and the curses beneath it. His smirk was gone, and I could see his composure might not be far behind. I licked the dip in the muscles at his waist, nipping at his hip bone. As I licked my way across to the other side, my tongue slipped down again to his cock. Before I got to the other side, his hands tangled in my hair, and he pulled me up along his length for a soul-searing kiss.

He held me tight against his body and flipped us over, nearly knocking the wind out of me. He kissed his way down to my breasts again, teasing with his mouth while his hands drifted farther south. He gently fumbled across the swollen flesh between my thighs, causing me to buck beneath him. I felt his smile against my stomach. He moved further down my body, pulling my knees up to give himself a better view.

"You are quite beautiful, love." His voice husky with sex and need. He sat back on his thighs to watch my face as he slid a finger inside. My whole body twitched and another of those tale tell moans wrenched from my mouth. He moved closer, propping my knee back and away before coming to rest on my stomach to hold me down. The other hand danced inside me. His first finger was soon joined by a second, then a third as he deftly stroked my flaming flesh. "So wet," he growled as he stopped momentarily to lick his fingers.

As his fingers returned, he allowed his thumb to graze over my clit. A near scream clawed its way up my throat. I sounded like a strangled cat. His thumb teased again. "Killian." His name flew out of my lips in a prayer.

His thumb circled my clit, teasing, stroking, while his fingers dipped between the folds of my heat. "What do you want, love?" he asked, his fingers slowing, finally still. He dragged his body along mine as he came up for a kiss, the hairs on that magnificent chest lighting a fire on my skin. His tongue darted along my lips and then pierced my mouth, ravaging. He slowed again, teasing. His thumb, still in place between my legs, flicked my swollen flesh again. He licked between my lips, alternately licking and nipping. "Do you want me to taste you again?" he asked between kisses.

I grabbed his tongue with my teeth and pulled him deeper into my mouth, sucking hard. He crushed me with his mouth. "Yes," I whispered, breathlessly, when he finally released me from the onslaught. I held my breath. My body burned with the memory of his tongue on my flesh.

He trailed kisses down my body, hands pushing my thighs apart as he settled himself between my legs, gently placing one over his shoulder. He deftly parted the folds hiding that most sensitive place and slowly licked the length of my clit. Again, he slid a finger deep inside me, teasing the soaking flesh within. He drew pictures with his tongue, circles and lines. He captured my tight bud between his teeth, flicking the tip. Another finger joined the first. His fingers curled, searching for that sensitive spot deep within my body. I felt myself slipping closer to the edge. A third finger joined the fray. My fingers twined through his silky hair, grasping his head tight against me as I ground myself into his hot, wet mouth. He moaned against me, quickening his pace. I had forgotten how good he felt.

"Yes, love, so close…" God, that voice.

My body started to buck. I could feel the wave peaking. Another flick of his tongue and the wave crashed over me. His name tore through my throat as my body shuddered uncontrollably under his deft ministrations. He stroked me down from my high while he rained kisses over my burning skin.

When I had stopped shaking, he placed a sweet kiss at the top of my curls and rested his face against my inner thigh, gazing down at my body splayed wantonly across the bed. His smile was completely wicked when I finally opened my eyes to gaze upon the gorgeous man who had just licked me into oblivion. I gave him a lazy smile. "You are a bloody demon," I said in my best Killian accent. His laugh was sharp and boyish.

"You're a bloody minx, love," he turned his head and bit my thigh. "Fortunately, I'm not quite finished with you yet." When he was finished with my thigh, he let his tongue trail through my wetness once more before wandering lazily back up my body, planting kisses, nips, and licks along the way. When he reached the top, he settled himself between my legs, his eyes turning smoky. I felt his heat rest against my stomach, hard and throbbing. I reached down to stroke the length of him.

"I'm not quite finished with you yet, either," I whispered against his lips. I clasped onto his length as he shoved himself up to position himself over me. Eyes locked, I guided him into my sheath. I pulled my legs up instinctively, giving him room to slide his full length deep inside, my walls stretching to accommodate his girth. It was so tight, so hot, so full. I gasped as he hit the wall of my pelvis. He started to shake, pressing his forehead to mine. He took several shaky breaths.

"Emma," he said, so quiet. "God, Emma…" He started to move, pulling his hips back, his cock sliding through my wet heat. He rocked back into me, almost painfully slowly. My hands trailed along his back, kneading the thick knots of muscles as they writhed with his thrusts. He picked up the pace as I started to move with him, arching my back into his body.

He adjusted his weight to rest on his elbow and forearm, sliding his other arm between our bodies. He moved his hand lower, once again fondling that tiny mound until he had me screaming his name as my body clenched around him. While my climax roared in my ears, he thrust into me faster and harder. Moments later, it was my name slamming into the walls as he reached his breaking point. Two more mind-numbing thrusts, and he collapsed on top of me, slick with sweat and panting.


	18. Chapter 18

It was several hours later when I woke up with Emma's body thoroughly tangled with mine, the sheets twisted around us like a toga. I had heard a door slam. The guys were back.

The moon had risen and poured in through the window, bathing her body in silvery light. Her silky, tangled curls were everywhere, across the pillow, across my face, wrapped around her neck. She looked so peaceful, her lashes soft against her cheek. There were sweet smudges of mascara under her eyes, her eyeshadow smudged along with it. She looked like a dream. I moved down to kiss her forehead gently, pulling her closer.

In her sleep, she moaned against my chest, an arm wending its way up to wrap around my neck, her fingers threading through my hair. Her body shifted more, her full length pressed against me everywhere. I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself from getting worked up. I took another breath, both of which helped only slightly. I rested my cheek against the top of her head, trying to calm myself. The leg wrapped around my calf slowly snaked its way up my hip, her foot hooking around behind my knee, pulling my thigh tight between her legs.

It was my turn to moan as blood flowed quickly from one end of my body to the other. I felt a tongue sweep out to lick my neck just before lips and teeth clamped on my jugular. She ground herself on my thigh while her hand pulled my head back to give her better access to my neck. She wiggled her other hand down between our bodies and stroked my shaft, causing my knee to shove harder into her wet center. I remembered clearly what happened the last time Emma woke up in a passionate snit, our earlier coupling having no dampening effect on either of us.

I turned the tables on her, grabbing her hair and pulling her away from my neck. "The guys are back," I whispered against her hair, dipping my tongue behind her ear.

"We'll just have to be quiet," she said, biting at my neck again.

I pulled her back again and looked at her face. I could see the flush in the moonlight, see the storm that was ready to crash in her green eyes. I found her lips swollen and hungry when I crushed her mouth to mine. "Killian," she said, her staccato breathing making it quite difficult to maintain any sort of composure. "Killian, I want you inside me," she said, squeezing my cock hard. "Now."

That was all I needed to hear before I rolled her onto her back and thrust into her hard. She wrapped her body around me, arms around my neck crushing our chests together, legs wrapped tightly around my waist forcing me deeper. She was wanton and hungry, desperate, one hand tangled in my hair, the other digging stripes into my shoulder.

"Don't hold back," she panted into my neck. "Please, Killian, don't hold back. I want all of you." She arched her body into mine with every thrust as her head rolled back against the pillow. She decided the pillow was in her way, and she pulled it out from under her head and tossed it aside. I chuckled against her as the loss gave me excellent access to that ever so sensitive pulse point on her neck.

As my mouth ground down on her neck, my arms wrapped around her lithe body, pulling us up from the bed. I used the leverage to take control, driving into her with my hips while my arms thrust her body up to meet me. There was no gentleness; it was all raw need as I slammed our bodies together viciously.

She bit down on my shoulder to stifle a cry. I felt her start to buck around me, the convulsions building. I brought my mouth back to hers and swallowed the scream torn from her as she crashed. Her entire body tensed, causing my own orgasm. Our bodies rocked against each other as we slid back to earth, breathing uneven and shattered. I tried to pull away, but she clung to me. I pulled my head away from her neck and saw the tears pouring from her eyes.

* * *

"God, Emma," he said, his voice so ragged. He sounded like fire and the ocean, both crashing in a tempest. He pulled back to look at my face. I kept my eyes pinched shut as the tears ran. He kissed my face gently, wiping the tracks from my face. It was pointless; the tears just kept coming. It hadn't been making love. It wasn't that tender, mushy crap girls always talk about when they talk about being in love. It was raw and naked, and I could feel his soul seared inside me.

I finally let him pull away and curl our bodies together. "I'm sorry," I said.

"What…? Why…? You're sorry?" he was flabbergasted. "Did I hurt you?"

I laughed. The sound came out hoarse and raw. "No," I said gently, my hand reaching up to drag against the scruff on his face.

"Are you sure? I generally do not lose control like that," he sounded all prim and proper, not at all like my lecherous Killian. _My_ Killian. I sighed as I laid back on the bed, continuing to stroke his bristly face. I pulled his head down for a kiss.

I tried to put everything I could into that kiss. I tried to tell him that I loved him, but we were never going to work, that he was too important to me, that I was going to miss him something awful. The tears began to fall again as his hand wove through my hair, pressing us together. Yes, he had somehow sewn his soul into my heart. I was never going to be ok after this.

I pulled back gently, wiping my eyes on the back of my hand. "I need to get back to the girls," I said softly. "I'm sorry. I would rather stay here with you, but…" My voice broke.

"I know, love. It's ok." He rolled away from me as I got out of the bed, searching in the faint light from the window to find my clothes. I knelt back on the bed to kiss him goodbye. As I left the room, glancing back at him sprawled on the bed, I thought I saw him wipe his eyes.


	19. Chapter 19

By the time I made it back to the girls, they had changed into pajamas and were well into a bottle of wine. They both just smirked at me as I went to get cleaned up a little and get into my own PJs. They had been loud and laughing before I opened the door to come inside. However, my arrival had forced them into quiet whispers and giggles. What is it with girls and stuff like this? Guys don't snicker at each other like children. At least I didn't think they did.

I managed to make it back to the living room, plopping down on the comfy sofa. Mary Margaret handed me a very full goblet of wine.

"So, Ruby," I said, trying desperately to remove the knowing glances from their faces. "What happened with Graham?"

"Well, I was just telling Mary Margaret that he is quite handsome. I had hoped to snag Killian, since he and Milah've split up," she took a drink of her wine, staring at me over the rim of her glass. Her eyes twinkled with pure, unadulterated mischief. She and Mary Margaret had been talking. _God, I_ hated _gossip!_

"Alright, you two. That is enough of your cattiness. I refuse to fall for your silly game, because this is our last night. We need something better to talk about than…"

"Than what?" Ruby broke in. "What could be better than tales of you getting yourself fucked silly by our delicious best man?"

"Fucked silly? Really?" I tried to sound indignant. The flush creeping up my face, I'm quite certain, did not help my cause.

Mary Margaret snorted into her wine glass. "Emma, you did look quite disheveled when you walked in the door. Unless you and Killian were out in a hurricane…" Her slurred voice trailed off as Ruby burst into fits of giggles.

"You two skanks are drunk, aren't you?"

"Well," Ruby said in between giggles. "We had to do something to occupy ourselves while you were getting your groove on."

I downed my wine and grabbed the bottle off the coffee table. "I'm going to need to get drunk for this."

They both burst out laughing.

* * *

David knocked on my door around 9:00 A.M. He cracked the door open just enough to see through, obviously checking to see if I was alone.

"She's gone, mate. Back to the hen house," I said. I was bone tired. I hadn't slept a wink after she'd snuck out hours ago.

He opened the door fully at my response. "I know you're going to say you're fine, but if you need to talk…" he let his statement trail off. "You still up for golf this morning?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just need a shower and some coffee," I told him, rolling out of bed.

He nodded at me. "Coffee's perking in the kitchen. Should be done by the time you're out of the shower." He closed the door behind him.

I grabbed my toiletry bag and some clean clothes then headed down the hall to the bathroom, praying a hot shower would wash away the melancholy that had seeped into me when Emma left. Hands spread against the front wall of the shower, I let the hard spray wash over me, easing my tense muscles. Our tee time was at 10:00, so I didn't linger long. I finally turned the water off, dried myself, and got dressed for a morning on the links.

* * *

It was finally "wedding day," and I woke in the plush luxury of our little cottage. Mary Margaret and David would be staying in it for their wedding night, the rest of us would have the other cottage. Sleeping arrangements, I'm sure, would be interesting, as Ruby and Graham had apparently hit it off the night before. Ruby was still in bed, but Mary Margaret was in the kitchen making coffee. Breakfast had been delivered, pastries and such, hours before. Mary Margaret was humming some tune or another under her breath as she sipped a mug of hot chocolate and read a book.

"Good morning," I said, as I wandered in and grabbed a croissant. "Is there more hot chocolate?"

"Yep, it's in the cabinet over the microwave. I put hot water on a little bit ago, but it probably needs heating again."

I turned the burner back on under the teapot before grabbing a mug and digging in the cabinet for the cocoa. "Cinnamon?" I asked, turning around to find her holding it out to me with a big grin on her face.

"Whipped cream is still in the fridge. I didn't want it to get warm," she said, tears glistening in her eyes.

I took the cinnamon from her and sat it down on the counter by the stove. She grabbed me around the waist in a bone-crushing-Mary-Margaret hug. "I'm gonna miss you, Emma, so much," she said. "You had better stay in touch."

I hugged her back with as much force as she directed at me. She was more like a sister than a friend, and I was going to miss her, too. "I will. I promise. Now stop this before we both end up sobbing uncontrollably and look like crap at your wedding," I said, trying to make my voice sound grouchy and stern.

She giggled at me and pulled away, wiping at her eyes. "That's what Preparation-H is for," she said, pushing me towards the whistling kettle on the stove. "We'd better get Sleeping Beauty out of bed. Our appointment at the spa is in half an hour."


	20. Chapter 20

_**Nice long chapter... couldn't find a good place to cut it. :)**_

* * *

It was 4:30 in the afternoon and the sun was just starting to blaze across the sky for what promised to be another gorgeous night. There were wispy clouds fanning across the sky waiting for the color wash from the setting sun. The girls had gotten to their tent about half an hour ago to get dressed. We had an hour before the wedding, and the photographer and his assistant were giving us the schedule of pictures.

We managed to get all the pictures taken in an hour save for those with both the bride and groom. We would finish those after the wedding.

Things weren't tense between Emma and me, although I had driven myself crazy the entire day fully expecting them to be so. It was weird but comfortable. We seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement to just make it through the night.

Guests began arriving around 5:30 and Graham and I began seating people. A sound system had been set up that morning, and Disney's greatest love songs were being piped across the field. At 6:00 P.M. the music faded to silence. The small crowed quieted and turned almost as one to watch the processional. Elton's music began piping through the speakers.

David and the minister started down the aisle, followed by Ruby and Graham performing as rehearsed except for Graham's shy smile and Ruby's brilliant grin. The two of them would definitely end up in bed together before the night's end. I would have bet money on it. When it was our turn, Emma walked calmly towards me, taking my arm once again.

"No tripping tonight, love," I whispered to her as we began our walk down the aisle. She jabbed me in the ribs with her rather pointy elbow, her smile never wavering. I chuckled under my breath. We managed to reach the bridge without any further ado as the music faded into Mary Margaret's bridal song, _Someday My Prince Will Come_.

Mary Margaret walked out from behind the tent as everyone rose in her honor. She beamed at her groom, who was doing everything he could not to laugh outright at her chosen song. The girls were stifling fits of giggles, and Graham and I could only roll our eyes at one another. Snow White had her Prince Charming at last, and she was going to milk her moment for all it was worth.

* * *

Mary Margaret literally glowed as she walked down the aisle to her favorite song in the whole world. I don't know why it didn't occur to me, or Ruby, or anyone else for that matter, that she would have chosen the love song from _Snow White_ for this moment. I suppose we all expected her to have a little more decorum. I snorted into my flowers. Fat chance. She was a _Snow White_ junkie if ever there was one.

She reached the front of the aisle with her Prince swooping down and taking her hand to guide her to the bridge. Their eyes never left one another. I glanced over toward Killian and caught him staring at me with stormy eyes. My breath caught in my throat as I forced myself back to the bride and her groom.

The wedding went off without a hitch, the Overture for _Snow White_ playing for the recessional. Everyone was in the girl's tent, waiting for the crowd to disperse to the reception so we could finish up the few pictures we had left. Champagne glasses were passed around by the wedding coordinator as we all toasted Mary Margaret and David, who couldn't stop kissing.

Killian snuck up behind me, his hand gently touching the small of my back. "You look beautiful this evening, Swan," he said softly into my ear. I turned to face him and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"You don't look so bad yourself, Jones," I said, my voice airy and calm. In fact, he looked downright sinful. The tuxedo hugged every well-muscled inch of him in all the right places. He gave me his devilish grin.

Leaning forward, he whispered against my ear, "If you need help getting out of that lovely dress later, I would be more than pleased to assist." His eyes, when he pulled back to look at me, were filled with longing and something that looked sad.

I gave him a quelling look, hoping to avoid what was certain to be a tangled situation. Fortunately, the wedding coordinator broke in, announcing that the crowd had dispersed, and we could finish the pictures. Apparently, during the wedding, the photographer had decided he wanted some additional pictures of the bridal party in our "pairs." Ruby and Graham were practically glued to one another in theirs. It was almost obscene, especially when Mary Margaret and David started whooping at them. They ended up lip-locked after that.

I groaned, knowing that after the night before, everyone would expect Killian and I to be equally amorous. Killian had apparently snuck up behind me and heard my displeasure.

"Not to worry, love. I prefer to keep our more passionate activities a bit more private and have no intention of providing photographic fodder for the masses." He placed his hand on my back, guiding me to the foot of the bridge for our own, personal photoshoot. "Relax," he instructed. "I've got you, Swan."

I leaned into him, and he pressed a kiss against the side of my head. The flashbulb went off. He slipped his arms around my waist and looked towards the camera. My smile was hesitant at first, but the warmth of his body slowly loosened me up. I suppose the champagne from a few moments before helped a little.

"Come on guys. You can do better than that," Ruby called out to us. I brought an arm up to link around Killian's neck, suddenly feeling a little more daring. I could feel him stiffen against me. I looked up at his face as he looked down. His arms tightened around me as he pressed his lips to my temple. The flash went off over and over. I started to shake.

"Ok, it's our turn now," Mary Margaret cried out. There were poses of the two of them, poses with the girls, poses with the boys, and poses with all of us. It seemed to be over quickly, but I think it was more my mind playing tricks on me. I was leaving the next day and didn't want the night to end.

We all walked over to the large tent that had been set up for the reception. We could hear the DJ announcing our impending arrival over the speakers. Ruby and Graham went first, followed by Killian and me. There was scattered applause as we entered the tent. When the DJ introduced Mr. and Mrs. Nolan, everyone went wild.

The requisite dances were all finished, the bouquet had been thrown, the garter tossed, the cake smashed into grinning faces. The evening was fast grinding into an all-night party as the alcohol flowed. It was time for the bridge and groom to leave, and the guests all lined up to form a path towards the bridal cottage. Bird seed and bubbles went flying as the two lovebirds trotted down the lane to their wedding night.

The guests started dwindling fairly quickly after the bride and groom left. The wedding party and a few other close friends remained, dancing and drinking. Killian walked up to me as I stood at the bar awaiting yet another drink.

"Dance with me, Swan?"

"I did dance with you," I said to him, fear pooling in my stomach, knowing we both wanted more than a dance.

"One dance, before you go, please?" He held out his hand, hope and uncertainty swirling across his face.

I took my drink from the bartender and took a large swig before nodding and taking his hand. The DJ had drifted into playing slower songs as the night had wound down. Killian walked us toward the dance floor, confiscating my glass and putting it on a table. The song changed to one I hadn't heard in a long time as he wrapped an arm around me, pressing my hand to his chest. Howie Day's "Collide" echoed through the tent as he held me tight, swaying to the music. I heard him softly singing the words as he held me.

* * *

She pressed her face against my neck, and I could feel her deep breaths against my skin. Her hair smelled like coconut and ginger, and it was all I could do not to drag her off the dance floor. The words to the song fit us to a "T," and I sang softly to her as I pulled her tighter, fully expecting her to pull away, but she melted into my body. The heat between us was palpable. Her nose nuzzled at my neck, her teeth captured my earlobe.

"I'm leaving tomorrow, Killian," she said, not pulling away. "I need to go before this ends up being yet another mess we both have to live with. I know I'm taking the coward route, but…"

I pressed another kiss to her face, shushing her. I let go of her waist, keeping her hand to pull her with me back to the cottage. "Killian…" She said, trying to pull at me, to stop me. I stopped short, hauling her against me with one hand as the other threaded through her hair, pins flying loose as I crushed her to me. My mouth went down on hers painfully. When I felt I had made my point, I pulled back a little.

"If this is the last night I get, I don't intend to waste it, Swan. If you don't want me, if you want to run, you need to go. Now." I released her, and she stumbled in the grass. I wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, to steady her, to drag her back to the cottage, to my bed. Her chest was heaving from our kiss. She took a step away from me, fear etched on her face in the moonlight.

"Killian…" Her voice was ragged and felt like a knife as it sliced through the air. She closed her eyes and, drawing in a deep breath, she held her hand out to me. My fingers gently grasped her hand, and turning it over, I pressed a gentle kiss into her palm. Winding my fingers through hers, I pulled her gently through the garden to the waiting bed. I got to help her out of her dress after all.

* * *

Someone was laughing in the kitchen, and it broke through my hazy brain, waking me from a deep sleep. As I rolled over to pull Emma back into my arms, I realized she was gone, the sheets not even slightly warm. There was, however, an envelope on the pillow:

 _Killian,_

 _I'm sorry, but I had to go. My flight leaves at noon, and I can't miss it. I know you think you love me, and maybe you do. I don't know. I do know that I need some time, some space, to figure things out. I care about you more than anyone, and I'll miss you more than you could ever imagine._

 _Be happy, Killian. Don't wait for me. Just, please, be happy…_

\- _Emma_

I looked at the clock; it was after noon. I'd missed her. She was gone, and that was pretty much the end of that.


	21. Chapter 21

It was six months later, and everyone was hanging out at the Jolly Roger before I left for LA. My former band had lost their lead singer recently (drug overdose), and they had called to see if I was interested. Given everything that had happened, it wasn't too difficult for them to convince me to go fill in.

Life was weird like that. One moment, you're losing yourself in your rum, the next you were back in your old game. I figured at the very least, there would be plenty of booze and women to numb my pain.

David and Mary Margaret were having fun nesting in their apartment, but we didn't see much of each other anymore. Graham and Ruby had moved in together, too, leaving me the odd-man-out. I needed a change, a drastic change, so LA was a welcome respite.

"Have you heard from Emma at all?" Mary Margaret asked as she sidled up next to me at the bar.

"Not a peep," I said.

"She sent me an email last week. It seems she's doing really well, but I don't know…" she sounded worried about her. "She never calls anymore, just writes or texts. I wish she'd come home. I told her you were heading out to LA…" she dwindled off. "Maybe you guys could get together some time out there?"

She pressed an envelope into my hand kissed me on the cheek. I just nodded and finished my drink, wishing I could leave. It was another hour before I felt I could bail without too many recriminations. I had an afternoon flight, but I still had some things to pack. There were hugs all around along with promises to keep in touch. I knew we wouldn't. It just hurt too much. Finding a family and then losing it like that was just painful. I wanted to just move on.

When I got home, I opened the envelope. It was an eight by ten of Emma and me from the wedding. Her hand was wrapped around my neck, and she was looking up at me as I held her. Her face was bathed in light, shining with happiness. I buried it in the bottom of a box.

* * *

My life was filled with work and little else. I got up, went to work, went home, went to bed alone. My nights were filled with dreams of Killian and our last nights together. I felt like a fool, but there was nothing left to do. Mary Margaret had told me he'd gone back to the band, moved to LA. I had hoped maybe he'd call me when he made it to the coast, but I had sufficiently dampened his feelings.

Mary Margaret continued to email, as did Ruby. They had stopped calling eventually, realizing I didn't want to "talk." I could write and keep it all hidden. I could be good and not ask about him, make it easier to forget he existed. I didn't want to know. I wanted to move on, despite being anchored to the horrible pain in my heart. I had royally fucked up.

* * *

We ended up back in New York after a couple of years in LA. I ran into Neal and Milah at a gig on the Upper West Side once. It wasn't too awkward. They seemed happy. Milah was working as a receptionist for a publisher, and Neal was working construction out on Long Island. They lived in Brooklyn. We had a couple of beers after the show, and Milah hugged me before they left.

"You should have gone after her," she whispered in my ear, smiling at me as she pulled back. I raised my eyebrow at her. "You were in love with her from the moment you met her, Killian. That's why I ended up with Neal. He didn't have a clue, but I know you too well. Go after her." She squeezed my shoulder and walked out the door behind Neal.

Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. I had royally fucked up.


	22. Chapter 22

_**It's been a crazy ride for me... My first ever fanfic and probably the longest story I've ever written. It's finished, now. I hope everyone enjoys!**_

* * *

The band that had been playing when I arrived was leaving the stage, the jukebox singing as they worked. Another band was weaving in and out of them, setting up gear for their set. I watched them get set up, my head leaned back against the wall, listening to the canned music. I dumped more whiskey in my glass and downed it. I just wanted to feel numb. I filled the glass again, got up from my table, and drained the whiskey once more. I walked towards the back door. The dart boards were gone, replaced by more tables in what was now an intimate alcove. I walked past the dim cave towards the back door. I pushed open the door and walked into the cool night air as the band took the stage.

I could hear someone talking, introducing the band, but I couldn't make out the words. I had dragged my bottle of rum with me, and made every attempt to suck oblivion from its depths as I leaned heavily against the wall. Tears started to pour down my face. I could not understand what insanity had me traipsing down this lane of depression. I don't know how long I stood there, holding up the building with my pain and misery. Eventually, the music from inside started to seep into my rum-addled mind.

They were playing Howie Day's "Collide." I could hear the acoustic guitar through the door, through the hallway, through the crowd. I remembered a slow dance, arms pressed around me, holding me close, fluttering kisses on my hair, my temple. I remembered the cottage after, tumbling into the bed, nothing but heat and need. The voice singing those words, I knew it like I knew my own.

 _The dawn is breaking  
A light shining through  
You're barely waking  
And I'm tangled up in you  
Yeah_

I dragged myself off the wall and back inside. I stopped at the end of the hall and watched him on the stage, strong hand playing the strings as well as it had played my body, mouth making love to the microphone as he sang from his soul the song that had blown us apart that night. His hair had gotten longer, face scruffier. He looked rough, dangerous, broken.

 _But I'm open, you're closed  
Where I follow, you'll go  
I worry I won't see your face  
Light up again_

Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme  
Out of the doubt that fills my mind  
I somehow find  
You and I collide

His eyes were closed, his face full of emotion as he poured everything into the song. I stood there, transfixed, unable to move. He was here. Maybe this journey wouldn't be fruitless.

 _I'm quiet you know  
You make a first impression  
Well, I've found I'm scared to know  
I'm always on your mind_

Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the stars refuse to shine  
Out of the back you fall in time  
I somehow find  
You and I collide

 _Don't stop here  
I lost my place  
I'm close behind_

* * *

I opened my eyes, fixing them on her face through the crowd. I knew this was the only way to get her to come back inside, to see, to know what I really felt, what the last five years had done to me. Tear tracks stained her face, a bottle of Jolly Roger dangled from her hands. The look on her face ripped through me. I hated that there was so much pain between us. I hadn't stopped loving her, not once.

 _Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme  
Out of the doubt that fills your mind  
You finally find  
You and I collide_

* * *

He didn't move, didn't miss a beat as he stared me down, singing to only me. He knew I had been there the whole time, knew that song would drag me back inside if nothing else would. I couldn't move. I was frozen, mesmerized, overwhelmed with memories of frantic kisses, hands and mouths everywhere. I stumbled against the wall. I could feel the want and the need crawling up from that deep, dark place where I'd buried it. I cursed myself for ever even thinking that I didn't love him when every cell in my body had screamed the lie.

 _You finally find  
You and I collide  
You finally find  
You and I collide_

He sat his guitar on the stand while the band kept playing an extended instrumental at the end. He walked off the stage and through the crowd, his eyes boring into mine. He didn't stop until he had my face in his hands and my body crushed against the wall, lips smashing into mine, teeth and tongues colliding together. My hands released the forgotten bottle of rum as they wrapped around his body, trying to pull him closer.

* * *

The kiss slowed, and we could hear raucous applause coming from the bar patrons, wolf-whistles and catcalls piercing through the fog. I pulled back slowly, that self-satisfied smirk back in its rightful place on my face. "God, how I love you, woman, and no amount of time will ever dull its edge," I breathed into her.

Her breathing was heavy, her eyes blown wide with something between amazement and lust. "Killian," she said so softly. "How could I have been so stupid?" I crushed her head into my shoulder, holding her tight as the sobs wracked her body. I pressed my lips to her hair, kissing my way down to her ear.

The band started playing again. I had noticed Emma walking out while we were setting up and told Bobby who she was. He'd known me long enough to know I was probably going to walk off stage at some point that night. I glanced up at him, and saw him give me a thumbs up and a big smile.

"Let's get out of here," I said.

"Killian, wait," she stopped me. "You need to know."

"Know what, love?"

"I love you, too."

I just chuckled back at her, kissing the tip of her nose. "Love, I knew that a long time ago. I also knew you needed some time to figure that out on your own. I didn't think it would take five years, but, I'm a patient man." I kissed her again, gently, and led her out into the night, vowing to never let her go again.

~Fin~

* * *

 _The song "Collide" is written, performed, and owned by Howie Day. I have no rights to it whatsoever. I just love that song. :)_


End file.
